


The Big Blue House

by BabyTheLady



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Autistic Terry Boot, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts First Year, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Mystery, Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Good Parent, Non-Canon Autistic Character, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Or is trying to be, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ravenclaw Draco Malfoy, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sad, Smart Draco Malfoy, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, and my autistic friend helped me, because diversity, but he wants to learn, mentally ill parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyTheLady/pseuds/BabyTheLady
Summary: 'Books were his true love. Whether fact or fiction, something was always gained from a book. Because of Rule Number 13, he'd had plenty of experience not talking. Books were a sign of being educated. One of the only things allowed. They let his 'flights of fancy' fly free, let his imagination run wild, let his mind be challenged.'A Ravenclaw Draco Malfoy au, with Lucius Malfoy being crueler and Narcissa being myseriously ill. A redo of the series with a drarry end game.[ON HIATUS. WILL BE GOING THROUGH REWRITE EVENTUALLY. VERY SORRY <3]
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Neville Longbottom & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy, Terry Boot & Draco Malfoy & Michael Corner & Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot & Michael Corner & Anthony Goldstein
Comments: 52
Kudos: 307





	1. Fairy Cakes

**Author's Note:**

> A normal day at Malfoy Manor. 2nd July 1991.

Draco Malfoy stood, poised and collected, in one of Malfoy Manor's many drawing rooms. He had a large pile of hardcover books stacked on top of his head. His face was cold and impassive as he paced back and forth through the room, reciting words that had been drilled into his head since birth. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was watching him from an armchair. His cold and impassive face taking on a sharper, crueler tone.

"Rule Number 12; A Pureblood is always calm and collected. Rule Number 13; A Pureblood child must be seen and not heard. Rule Number 14; A Pureblood is well educated. Rule Number 15; When one is of age, a Pureblood will court another Pureblood of the opposite gender and will create a heir between them. Rule Number 16; A Pureblood is punctual and never late. Rule Number.."

"That's enough, Draco," A sharp voice interrupted the boys recitation. The boy stopped his pacing back and forth. Lucius stood up swiftly his robes falling to the ground in dramatic fashion, a cane in one hand. He moved towards the boy, towering over him as he circled. 

"Now, I want you to recite the Pureblood laws again, but backwards."

"P-pardon?" The boy asked confusedly. Lucius turned on his son. He brought his cane up and hit the boy's back with it harshly. 

"Did I stutter Draco?" Lucius asked condescedingly. The boy shook his head.

"No F-Father."

"However, you seem confused at my request. But I can't see how that could be. I specifically remember ordering you to memorise all 25 of the Pureblood laws. Completely. In and Out. Back. To. Front. And if you can't recite them backwards, then are you saying that you disobeyed me? That you enjoy disappointing your parents and your heritage? Is that what you are trying to communicate through those Abraxas forsaken stutters?" He circled his son, his cane raised threateningly, daring the boy to breath out of line.

"I apologise father. Which law shall I recite them backwards f-from?" The boy stood taller, his clammy hands held fearfully behind his back. Every part of his was meticulously crafted. His robes were expensive and well made, tailored to fit him exactly. His hair was slicked back with gel, not a single hair out of place. His face was sharp and pale, having only a slight amount of baby fat left to soften his young features, the product of years of Pureblood ancestry. He was made for perfection. 

"You may recite them from where I stopped you, Rule Number 16. And another thing..." Lucius grabbed the boy's sweaty hand from where they were held behind his back and forced them straight out in front of him. His hands were small and dainty, the nails looking manicured. Lucius continued to use force to shove the boy's sleeves up to his forearms, revealing harsh red lines littering them, elbow to wrist. The boy looked straight forward. 

"I will be giving you 3 raps to your arm, merciful for your ignorance if you asked me, but for every book that falls off your head, you will be given three more. Do you understand?" 

"Y-yes sir."

"You will be reciting the Pureblood laws backwards while I do this. Stutter or fail to do so. and you will face the consequences." Lucius raised his cane at the ready. The boy nodded.

"Late never and punctual is Pureblood a; 16 Number Rule!" The boy's voice grew louder as his father gave the first hit to his arms. "Them between heir a create will and ge-" The boy was interrupted by the thwick of the cane on his arm. With a sharp look from his father, he continued. "Gender opposite the of Pureblood another court will Pureblood a, age of is one when; 15 Number Rule." The boy straightened his back determinedly. So far no book had fallen off of the pile atop his head, and he had not stuttered. He only needed to make it through one more hit and he was free. "Educated well is Pureblood a - AGH!" The third hit came. This one was harsher than the others, and most most likely heated up to burn by Lucius' spells. It drew blood from the boys arms, and nearly caused the boy to lose balance. One of the books nearly toppled and the boy brought his hands up in fear to steady the pile, blood dripping down his arms in large clots, staining his robes and carpet. 

Draco didn't care about his bleeding arms. He could not let another book fall. He had just barely managed to steady himself and the books and held on to them with a sigh of relief. Until Lucius stepped in.

"Stupid boy!" The man grabbed Draco's arms away from the books he was holding, gloved hand flush against the boy's bleeding gashes. Draco gasped in pain and shock and tried to take his hands back. Lucius yanked the boy's arms away to stay in front of him, the force of the pull enough to topple every one off the books. Draco watched in despair as each hardcover hit the blood stained carpeted floor, everything out of his control. His hands were shaking on a minuscule level while they were in his father's cruel grasp. He faced the man's eyes, fearful for the punishment. 

"Well well well Draco, what a shame this is. You appear to have dropped every. Single. Book." The man smiled cruelly, hitting the boy on the head with his cane at each pause. He used a hand to yank the boy's head to face him, daring him to disagree. "What do you have to say for yourself, Draco?"

"I-I am s-sorry for m-my st-tupidity Father." The boy stuttered out, bowing his head.

"Oh I sure hope that you are, you incompetent brat. Now, I believe it's about time you paid for your insolence!" At that moment the door opened. Narcissa was in the doorway, looking on at the scene in front of her. Lucius hastily lowered his cane and smiled fakely at her. 

"What is the racket in here?" Her voice asked in a dreamy fashion. Her eyes were distant and her hair was loose. She was still in a white nightgown, the one Draco liked most. It was pretty and flowing and Mother felt mot comfortable in it. It made her look like an angel. 

"Nothing darling, you can go back to bed." Lucius tried ordering her with a tensely gentle voice. Narcissa's eyes drifted over to Draco, from his frazzled hair to his bloody arms. She cocked her head at the blood on the carpet. 

"Were you two playing with jam again?" She asked obliviously. Draco averted his eyes downward sadly.

"Yes Mother, we were just playing with jam. I was silly and spilled some." He lied. She floated over to him barefoot, stepping in the puddles of blood. She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Let's have a tea party." She took Draco by the hand, a gentle tug being all he needed to leave the room with her. Before he did, he gave his father a quick bow, and rushed out of the dark room with her. 

"How are you feeling today, Mother?" Draco asked her timidly. She smiled down at him, her blonde hair falling in tresses down her shoulder. 

"I'm feeling happy today. What about you, my duckling?" Draco flushed happily at the nickname. That nickname meant she was feeling more grounded. It was more likely that she wasn't going to have one of her turns. 

"I'm okay. Me and Father were just playing today and it got a bit out of hand." He lied smoothly. He didn't want to fill her mind with troubles when she was in this fragile state. Her hand was soft and caring as she held onto his, so he gave hers a quick squeeze. She'd be better soon. He just had to help. 

They made it to the open kitchen. It was the newest room in the mansion, per Narcissa's. She wanted somewhere to make cakes and teas for her tea parties. She insisted on doing it herself, but to Draco's memory, he recalled many times when she'd forget to bake the cake, or would just serve hot water with no tea. She would try. Every Sunday Draco had tea with his mother. It was the one time he could talk to her freely without his father trying to shoo her back to bed in one of her rooms. Draco knew it was bad, but he preferred his mother to his father. She was kinder to him. She didn't know what an awful son he was. 

"Give me a moment Mother, I have to wash this bloo- jam, I have to wash this jam off of my arms." He slipped his hand out of hers and went over to the sink. He turned the tap to cold water and let it flow over his gash. It had mostly dried up by now, so he opened up the cupboard under the sink and got out the first aid kit. Ordinarily it could be fixed easily with a couple of spells, but Draco didn't have his wand yet, and he didn't want to bother his father anymore.

He took out a tub of dittany and spread it over the gashes lightly, hissing at the sting of it. There wasn't a lot, and it and it wasn't fresh or dried, so the scar would still be quite prominent. He still figured that it was better than nothing. He then took out a roll of bandages and tied them round his arms. There. He tied them round his hands as well. Now he was like a warrior. Or a pirate. Someone who had cuts and blisters on their hands and arms from sword-fighting. That was way cooler. The boy packed away the medical supplies back into the wooden box and hid it back under the sink. 

While he'd been doing this, Narcissa had gotten out a cook book and had layed baking ingredients out on the marble island. She smiled at him. 

"Lets make some fairy cakes." Draco smiled tiredly back. His mother loved making fairy cakes. He did most of the actual baking, and he was thankful it was easy, while she handled the decorations. Even in this state, she still had an incredibly careful hand when applying icing and sprinkles. She always made them look beautiful. 

He opened up the cook book to the fairy cake page and got out a large mixing bowl and spoon. Unlike potions, with baking it was much more relaxed. The measurements weren't as severe. There was more freedom. Draco used to struggle with this, but after some time, he'd adapted to being able to estimate the ingredients rather than measuring them out. Within five minutes he was mixing all of the ingredients in a large bowl. His mother had been watching him. She did this every time, and never ceased to look on in awe, as i it were the first time she was watching him bake. 

"Can I have a go my duckling?" She asked, referring to the mixing. He handed her the spoon and she took to it with gusto. While she was busy, he readied the baking tray and cupcake wrappers, this time choosing the light blue ones. He rather liked blue. It was a friendly colour. 

Once Narcissa was done mixing he poured out the mixture into the dozen wrappers and smoothed it all down. Draco got out some oven mitts and put the tray into the oven, setting the timer at the top for fifteen minutes.

Now it was time for the icing. 

Draco found some butter and icing sugar, and left it to his mother to prepare. It was her favourite thing to do. 

"Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart, but how old are you again?" Narcissa asked Draco while she mixed the ingredients together. Draco's shoulder's slumped slightly. She'd been the only one at his party scarcely a month ago. And she'd already forgotten. 

"I turned 11 last month, June 5th 1991." He told her while leaping up onto a tall chair that stood next to the island. 

"Oh! So you're of Hogwarts age aren't you! When are you going? Have you got all of you're things? Will I go to Hogwarts as well?" And with that last question, the illusion of a normal adult was broken. Draco forced out a chuckle. 

"You've already been to Hogwarts, Mother, years ago. Don't you remember?" 

"Oh yes! I went with Lucius Malfoy and Amy Clover and Abelia Parkinson and Gaston Goyle, and sweet Andromeda and Bellatrix. Bella always had the funniest jokes. You've met your Aunty Andy and Aunt Bella haven't you?" He hadn't. Andromeda Black was considered a blood traitor and Bellatrix Lestrange was a convicted criminal who had been stuck in Azkaban since before Draco could crawl. 

"I haven't recently. We can't see, uh, Aunt Bella and Father forbids any communication with Aunt Andromeda." She frowned.

"Well that's not fair. Who says we have to listen to him. I want to see Andy! Who is he to stop me? We should go and see her!" Oh no. She always switched between child and adult, and now she was going to have a tantrum.

"But Mother, we should really finish making the fairy cakes. They're nearly done!" He sighed in relief as she calmed down to a smile. 

"Great idea duckling! We can bring Andy some fairy cakes! Oh you are so sweet!" She clasped her hands together in excitement. Oh Merlin. 

"Whatever you say Mother." He replied, hoping she'd change her mind. At that moment the oven timer pinged, so he put the oven gloves back on and took the tray out. They were baked to perfection, so he set them on a rack to cool.

After they were done cooling, Narcissa took over. She put all the buttercream icing into a piping tube and was ready to decorate. With each cake she took great care with the presentation, swirling the icing, spreading it, each fairy cake being different and unique. When Draco was younger, he used to ask her why she made each one different. She always replied with another question. 'What good does it do to be the same?" 

When Lucius was teaching Draco about his ancestry, and how all Purebloods must go by the particular codes, Draco had asked this same question. He was subsequently shunned for his insolence and was told not to dwell on flights of fancy such as 'individualism'. He never brought it up again, with his mother or father. 

Narcissa continued to switch round the different tubes, using a thin one to create rose petals, another to make a smiley face. Draco loved this part of cake baking. Mother was focused and careful and quiet. She was like she always was. Before everything changed. Draco loved watching his mother when she was focused on her craft. It was theraputic and peaceful and he didn't need to be a Malfoy. Rule Number 1; A Pureblood is always perfect. 

Narcissa finished quickly, finalising some of the cupcakes with icing butterfly wings which were charmed to flutter. She then set them all up meticulously on a butterfly plate, and carefully carried it outside. Draco fumbled off of his seat and rushed to get an umbrella out of an ugly gnome umbrella stand. She opened it up and held it up above an oblivious Narcissa as she opened the back door. 

"Wonderful weather, isn't it?" It was raining buckets. Still, Draco steadied the umbrella and nodded along as she lead them down the patio to a sheltered table. Once they were out of the rain, he closed the umbrella before she could see it, and hurried to pull up a chair for her. "Such a polite son I have," He smiled back at her, discreetly checking her over to see if her nightgown got wet. 

She set down the plate of fairy cakes and Draco took one of the ones that had butterfly wings on it. He looked up at her cautiously as she ate one of her cakes.

"So we're not going to bring Aunt Andy any fairy cakes?" He checked carefully. 

"Well who is that dear?" She asked him. 

Oh drat. 

"Nobody Mother." It's cruel, but there's less of a chance of her having one of her turns if she forgets. So he figured it was for the best. 

They each had three cakes before Narcissa began to look tired. 

"Mother, how about I walk you to your room." Draco offered his arm. She took it happily and leapt from her chair, her nightgown flowing in the breeze. The rain had stopped by now so he clicked his fingers.

As soon as he did so a house elf appeared. 

"What can Dobby do for you Master Draco?" The house elf asked.

"Hello Dobby, please may you clean away the remaining cakes and return this umbrella to the ugly gnome stand." Draco bent down to hand the elf the black umbrella.

"Which gnome stand?"

"Oh, the uh...the one in Mrs Malfoy's kitchen." 

He guided his mother to her room, where she lay on top of the covers face up. She fell asleep within a minute of laying down. 

Draco stayed for a minute longer to smooth out her long blonde tresses. They fell like a halo around her head. She really did look angelic. Her face was peaceful and carefree. Draco smiled at his good work and turned off the line before shutting the door behind him on the way out. 

He looked to the gold encrusted grandfather clock in the hallway. It was 5 past 5. It wasn't the weekend so he didn't have to have dinner with his father, and homeschool wasn't on in the summer. He was free to do whatever he liked in his room. 

So he would read. 

Draco loved reading. 

Books were his true love. Whether fact or fiction, something was always gained from a book. Because of Rule Number 13, he'd had plenty of experience not talking. Books were a sign of being educated. One of the only things allowed. They let his 'flights of fancy' fly free, let his imagination run wild, let his mind be challenged. He was almost fluent in both Latin and French as well as English. His goal was to learn Italian, Spanish, Portuguese and Romanian by the time he was 25.

But his absolute favourite thing to do was learn new words. Long words. With 20 or more letters. The longest word in the English language was pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, and was a Muggle lung disease. Many of the words were very scientific, and would probably never be used, but he liked to keep them there in the back of his brain. Just in case.

He also had a developed curiosity. He wanted to know how everything worked, he wanted to know the answer to all of the biggest questions. What was the meaning of life? How did we get here? Why are humans social creatures? Is God real? His favourite questions often referred around the forbidden topic; Muggles. They were strange creatures.

According to his father they were nothing more than insects. They were dirt to be stepped on, and Muggleborns were no different. But why don't Wizards communicate with Muggles? Is it for the Muggle's safety, or for the Wizards? Why is it so bad if a Muggle discovers magic exists? Muggles have survived for so long without magic and yet they seem so advanced. Does this mean that magic is potentially a crutch for Wizards to stop them from reaching their full potential? And they must be special to be able to birth magic children without being Pureblood. Does this mean that they are like wizards? Or are they a descendant of a squib with magic still in their veins? Why does this exclude Muggleborns from being as important as Purebloods? Why the inequality?

Draco pondered these questions often. He searched the mansion's library for answers time and time again, but always came up naught. His only hope was Hogwart's course of Muggle studies. He should probably prepare a list of questions to ask the teacher. School was in less than a month after all. He should ask father when to go shopping for his supplies. He needs enough time to pack and prepare his things. 

Lucius had originally been meaning to send him to Durmstrang, but since Narcissa's accident, had wanted the boy closer to home in case something were to happen. Draco was perfectly okay with this. He heard Durmstrang had a terrible Muggle Studies course. Although he wouldn't have minded learning how to perform Dark Magic. At Hogwarts they only supervised Defense Against the Dark Arts. He supposed with the libraries extensive information on the topic he could learn how to do it on his own time.

He picked out two large books from under his mattress. One was an extensive reading on astronomy, astrology, mythology and legends, a 1st edition. It was his mother's favourite. She loved his name and how he was named after a constellation. She made learning about his family fun, because when talking about them he'd get to learn about their name and origins.

For his name, in Greek mythology he was the dragon that Heracles defeated in one of his 12 labors. But Draco preferred the Greco-Roman legend, and how Draco was a dragon killed by the goddess Minerva and tossed into the sky upon his defeat. The dragon was one of the Gigantes, who battled the Olympic gods for ten years. As Minerva threw the dragon, it became twisted on itself and froze at the cold North Celestial Pole before it could right itself. It may never end well for the dragon, but at least that story includes more action.

The second book was the largest book of fairy tales, collected from Wizard and Muggle stories alike. It included the tales of Beedle the Bard, Hogwarts ghost stories, and Muggle princess tales. Draco's personal favourite was the story of how the 12th century Durmstrang boy Pluto, an underestimated and seemingly average Wizard of humble backround, became the greatest dragon tamer of all time. His arch enemy Adrik of the North died in an icy tundra, but Pluto had his trusty pet dragon Dinara to keep him from freezing. He opened up several dragon training camps all over the world and lived out the rest of his life kicking ass while on a dragon. He was Draco's hero and idol. 

Draco sat cross legged on his bed and flicked through the Big Book Of Stories, Tales, Myths and Legends for the perfect one. 

He stayed awake until 2 in the morning reading through it, before his head finally hit the pillow.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes shopping in Diagon Alley for school supplies. 3rd July 1991.

On the 4th of July, Draco was in Diagon Alley shopping for his school supplies, being accompanied by his mother. Looking at them, you'd think Narcissa was there to look after Draco. She thought she was as well. The actuality of the situation was Draco chaperoning Narcissa and holding her hand so she wouldn't wander off. He had been ticking down the items on his list one by one and had just finished buying his wand. The man in the shop, Ollivander, had gone on quite a bit about the unicorn hair core and how special it was. Draco appreciated the sentiment in trying to make a first wand exciting but Mother had almost had one of her turns from boredom, so he'd had to politely excuse them both. She was now quite restless.

The next thing on his list was to buy his robes from Madam Malkin's, and while he got them fitted he wanted a quick break from Narcissa. He searched for something to busy her with that wouldn't endanger or anger anyone. 

Then he spotted the ice cream shop. 

"Mother, could you get us both some ice cream while I get my robes fitted over there at Madam Malkin's please?" He pointed to the robe shop so she wouldn't get lost. He handed her a small pouch full of sickles and galleons. 

"Oh I do love ice cream! What flavour would you like?" She snatched the pouch excitedly. One of her more childlike times then. 

"Could I have one scoop of chocolate please? I'll see you in ten minutes, meet me outside the robe shop." He directed her, giving a quick kiss to her cheek. He felt like a parent but that was fine. It made him feel responsible. 

Narcissa nodded, delighted, and ran to the ice cream shop, nearly knocking someone over in her rushed. Draco sucked in his teeth. 

"She'll be fine." He told himself, before heading to the robe shop. 

The lady working there was very kind, and got him set up right away for being fit at the back of the shop. He stood on a footstool and waited patiently while another witch pinned his clothes. He heard some footsteps behind him and turned around to face the intruder.

Another boy was being set up on a footstool, a large robe covering him alike Draco. He looked scrawny and nervous, with circular glasses and the messiest black hair Draco had ever seen. He had dark skin which made him bright green eyes stand out. He made eye contact. 

Draco flushed at the sudden attention and fumbled over something to say. He had to settle for a quick "Hullo," before fiddling with his hands. 

"Uh, hi?" The boy replied anxiously, cowering in on himself a bit. "My name's Harry."

"I'm Draco." He said, straightening his back. "Are you going to Hogwarts as well?" The boy blinked up at him through dirty glasses. 

"I, uh, suppose I am. Do you know anything about it?" Ah. So the scrawny boy was a muggleborn then. Must be a shock for him. Draco stared at the boy curiously. A source of new information. 

"Yes, I know plenty about Hogwarts. But tell me, are you a muggleborn?" He questioned, mentally preparing parchment to take notes on.

"A what?" Ah, very new then. 

"A muggleborn. It means someone who was born in the muggle world but they have magical abilities."

"O-oh, right, that. Uh, I suppose my parents were magic but I was raised by my aunt and uncle. They're muggles." His parents 'were'? Ah, an orphan then. His parents probably died in the war. 

"So when did you learn you were magic? Did you experience many bouts of accidental magic as a child? Who told you that you were a wizard? Did you choose to go to Hogwarts or did they tell you to? Did you even get the option of going international with your magic schooling? How difficult did you find the conversion of muggle money into galleons? Am I the first wizard you've met? On a scale of one to ten, how exciting is the magical world compared to the muggle one?" That last question could have a biased answer, but Draco didn't care. 

The boy looked frazzled and took a step back as Draco realised he'd been leaning forward. 

"Uh, I learnt I was magic today, so I haven't had that much time to adjust. Um...I guess some accidental magic happened, but I didn't know it was accidental magic. I just thought it was because natural disasters or birth defects. Hagrid, the Hogwarts games keeper, told me I was magic. He's with me now. They, um, sent me a letter saying I'd been accepted into Hogwarts? So I really want to go. I don't know about the next question because I don't know about international anything? I didn't need to convert muggle money into galleons because my parents left me some magic money to use. Hagrid was actually the first wizard I met, but you're the first wizard around my age who I've met. At least, I think you're around my age...you're not an elf or something, are you? And definitely 10 out of 10! The magical world is so interesting! And I've only seen Digon Alley!" He finished in quick procession. Impressive. 

"It's actually Diagon Alley," Draco corrected quickly, mentally writing up the boy's answers. "And I'm not an elf. I'm a human." The witches were done with both of their robes by then and were gently shoving them towards the front of the shop. 

"So, um, you're also going to Hogwarts?" The boy asked. Draco nodded. "What is it like?"

Draco thought a moment. "Well, I've only ever seen it in illustrations and pictures, but it's supposed to be a large castle surrounded by grounds and a lake." Harry focused onto Draco, wonder in his eyes, urging him to continue. "It has large towers and turrets, as well as dungeons, and it's apparently supposed to be chock full of secret passageways! I learnt all about them from my book, The Many Mysteries of Hogwarts Castle!" Draco boasted proudly, before getting self conscious. As his father always said, liking books is a sign of being educated, but talking about said books is a sign of blabbermouth tendencies. Still, the green eyed boy, Harry, continued to look enthralled with what he was saying.

"It's also supposed to have many ghosts to wander the castle, but the book always described them as adding character to the place rather than being scary. It's all quite medieval, and hasn't really changed since the original Hogwarts House leaders."

"Hogwarts Houses?" Harry asked.

"I suppose you wouldn't know. Long ago, the 4 settlers of Hogwarts decided that the students be divided by their characteristics, going into 4 houses named after each of them. Ravenclaw house, for the intelligent, witty and creative. Slytherin, for the cunning, ambitious and resourceful. Gryffindor, for the daring, brave and chivalrous. And lastly Hufflepuff, for the dedicated, patient and loyal. Many have also argued that Hufflepuff's are particularly good finders." He explained in summary. Harry smiled.

"I rather like the sound of Hufflepuff house. They sound like they have great traits!" Draco knew his father would kill him if he were to ever go into Hufflepuff. He didn't hate them as much as Gryffindors, but he viewed them like house elves, useful for labor and little else. Draco didn't think that was fair, but kept quiet on the matter.

"I wouldn't mind being in Hufflepuff house, but I should be in Slytherin house." Draco said.

"Why? Are you very cunning ambitious and resourceful?" Truthfully, he wasn't. He tried to be ambitious, but he wasn't very cunning. He didn't really have much drive for what to do once he was older, since he knew he'd just continue the Malfoy line and have many little Pureblood babies and sit on top of his fortune doing nothing. It was bland but he'd accepted it. He was quite resourceful in the sense of gathering knowledge to further his own tasks, but other than that, he didn't think so. He hoped that his Pureblood heritage would be enough to shoehorn him into Slytherin. His ancestors had.

"All my family was in Slytherin, so I have to continue the tradition. Many people mistake Slytherin for being the 'evil' house, because You-Know-Who was in it, but I don't think that's fair. It's not Slytherin's fault he decided to become a crazy psychopathic murderer. His ambition just happened to revolve around taking over the world."

"You-Know-Who was in Slytherin?"

"Oh yeah, I suppose you may not know about him, since you were raised by Muggles. He was an evil racist who started the first Wizarding War and tried to take over the world by killing muggleborns. But don't worry, he was defeated by Harry Potter..." Draco's eyes snapped to the other boy. "Wait a minute..." He took a step closer and held up the boy's dark and messy fringe to reveal a lightning scar messily covering his forehead in multiple bolts.

"You're Harry Potter..."

"Uh, yeah...hehe."

"You're Harry Potter! Holy Hell, I have so many questions! The explanation about how you defeated You-Know-Who has always been vague, especially since you were a baby...you wouldn't happen to remember how you did it, would you? My gosh, how advanced is your magic? How deadly were your accidental magic spurts? How did you only find out today? You survived the killing curse when you were scarcely an infant, how was that possible? Could it be due to some birth abnormality, or maybe a peak in your magic from a younger age? I have so many theories! You're the boy who lived and you were raised by muggles, you're like an infinite fountain of knowledge!" He rapid fired with an excitement he hadn't felt in a long time. The other boy was beginning to cave in on himself a bit, awkwardly trying to shuffle away from the blonde's advances. 

At that point they both heard a tap at the window. They turned towards it to see Narcissa and a large hairy man, both with two ice creams in their hands and both smiling widely. 

"Mother?"

"Hagrid!"

They both spoke at the same time. They turned back to each other before rushing out the door to meet them.

"Are you alright Mother?" Draco began looking her over slightly. She nodded and handed him an ice cream. 

"Just what you wanted! Peaches and Apricots!" He'd asked for chocolate. He put on a smile and thanked her. 

"Just what I wanted. Can I have the money pouch back please?" She smiled and shook her head. 

"I lost it!" 

"You lost it?" He asked, bewildered.

"I couldn't pay for the ice cream." She shook her head, her golden hair flowing this way and that. 

"So you stole them?!" Draco exclaimed, nearly dropping his ice cream. This was just grand, now he'd have to go back and pay double and apologise and there was now a chance of getting banned, and he couldn't get his precious answers from Harry Potter!

"Nope!" She popped the 'p'. "This tall man paid for it!" She gestured to Hagrid, spilling ice cream on her dress by accident.

"You paid for our ice cream?" Draco asked the large man, getting a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the stain.

"Was no problem really, this one 'ad lost 'er purse an' was close to cryin'. Was the leas' I could do." He answered bashfully, taking a lick of his ice cream and getting some in his beard. Draco put away his handkerchief.

"Well here you go then. Thank you for your help." He said while handing Hagrid 4 galleons. 

"Oh no, this is far too much, this is. It's fine, 'onestly!" Hagrid tried insisting, but Draco insisted more and shoved the coins into a large open hand.  
"Thank you for your service. Come along Mother, we really should be going home now." He grabbed Narcissa's hand and steered her away from the others.

"Uh, goodbye!" Harry yelled after them. Draco turned back around.

"I'll see you on the train 1st September! I'll be expecting my answers!" He called before focusing on getting his mother out of there. He squeezed her hand as they flooed back to the manor, ice cream dripping everywhere.

When they made it to the other side he dropped his bag dull of supplies by the fireplace. He then walked Narcissa up to her room, taking the dripping ice cream away from her before sat down on the bed. He threw it into the bin, along with his own, before washing his hands in her en suite. After washing the ice cream from them he sat behind his mother on the bed and began to plait her hair. 

It was the favourite part of his day, playing with her hair. It gave him something to do with his hands. He was always needing to keep them busy one way or another, something to focus on and to quench his need to focus onto something. He was always plaiting anything he could find, from Great Aunt Walburga's antique scarves to his favourite sweet, Strawberry Parchment Rolls. He liked plaiting Narcissa's hair because he think it made her look younger, more carefree, and after he undid the plaits it would give her golden curls. 

He would like curly hair. Or at least hair that wasn't supposed to be slicked back all the time. He thinks it made him look like his father, and it gave him terrible cow licks after he washed the gel out. He preferred Narcissa's long hair to Lucius'. It was lovelier, less harsh and perfect. 

After he was done with twin french braids, he tied the ends with light blue ribbon. It made her look like a little girl, like more of a sister than a mother, and lately he supposed she was. He kissed her cheek goodbye and left her to her own devices, leaving the room. 

In the hallway a house elf Apparated in front of him, giving him a nasty shock. She was smaller than most who worked at the manor, and was wearing shocking red rags, looking to be from a Christmas socking.

"Master Lucius is looking for Master Draco, and has sent Dim to call for him. Master Lucius would like Master Draco to meet him in the third floor drawing room please sir." She saluted.

"Could you Apparate me there please Dim?" He asked her, not wanting to walk all the way to the other side of the mansion. The house elf looked surprised, but nodded and grabbed onto Draco's trouser leg. She then clicked her fingers and Draco felt a great lurch in his stomach as they Apparated. Once he was there, he nodded a thanks before she scurried off. 

"Draco, how kind of you to meet with me." Lucius Malfoy's voice cut through the quiet. Draco quickly fit his hands behind his back and stood up straight, imagining a pile of books on his head. He would not let one fall. 

"What did you need me for Father?" 

"Where were you today Draco?" His cold voice asked in a careful tone. Draco knew better than to trust that voice. 

"I was shopping for my Hogwarts school supplies in Diagon Alley."

"And where was your mother?" Oh no. 

"Sh-she was with me." He stuttered. Damn it, no stuttering!

"And why was she with you Draco?" Lucius tapped a book onto the boy's head. He looked like he was going to put it back onto the shelf, but instead balanced in on the boy's head. 

"She a-asked to come with me. She w-wanted to go ou-outside." He straightened his back further and puffed out his chest slightly. Stay strong. No one likes weaknesses.

"And why did you let her go with you?" Lucius' voice had taken on an angrier tone. Her picked another heavy book from the shelf and slammed in onto Draco's head with force. Draco wavered.

"B-b-because she w-wanted t-to a-a-a-and..."

"A-a-a-and what Draco?" Lucius mocked. "How stupid can you be?" He slammed another book on the boy's head. "You know she shouldn't leave the grounds!" Another book. "What were you thinking?!" Another. "She could've gotten hurt," this book was heavier, "or taken advantage of," the books were piling up precariously, "she could've had one of her fits right in public Draco!" The book was used to batter his forearm before it went on top of his head. "Do you realise what could have gone wrong?! Stupid boy!" This book was thinner, but still hurt as it was used to slap Draco across the face. Not a single book fell from the violent assault of their carrier.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry Fa-Father, I-I-I d-did-didn't th-think." Draco stuttered out fearfully. 

"Well that much is obvious enough." Lucius took his head in one hand and sighed before sitting down on a chair. 

"You are excused to study your new books. I have shown you mercy this time, the least you could do it gather any intelligence or common sense."

"Y-yes Father." Draco took off the pile of books and fled to his room.

He couldn't wait until Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	3. Chocolate Frogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Hogwarts.

Draco was rolling a trolley down King's Cross, looking up at the platforms as he went. He was searching for the plastic board that would say Platform 9 and Platform 10. He tried to remember what his father had told him. 

'There's a brick wall between the platforms. You need to run through it with speed and confidence to go through to the other side where the Hogwarts Express is. If you're late, you will only run into a wall and look like a fool, all while attracting the attention of muggles. Do not be late!'

He walked up to Platforms 9 and 10 and looked at the brick wall in between them. Before he could get a running start he heard a voice from behind him.

"Stop being so loud about Hogwarts dear, King's Cross is packed with muggles. Of course they're probably too busy rushing about to notice anything unusual. 

Which we should be doing as well boys, you're going to miss the train!" He turned around to see a group of redheads coming over to the Platform. There were four boys, all with trolleys, a little girl, and a plump and bright woman, who he assumed was the mother. The oldest boy looked confident, while the one closest to Draco's age looked a bit nervous. The middle children looked to be identical twins, and both wore unnervingly similar mischievous expressions. 

The mother and the daughter looked to be bickering slightly, while the twins appeared to be 'consoling' the nervous boy, not very well by how his expression was growing more fearful.

"...All right Percy, you go first." 

"I can't. There's someone in front of the platform."

Draco looked to both of them and realised he was still in the middle of the barrier. 

"I-I'm sorry, here let me..." He struggled to maneuver his trolley out of the way. As soon as he did the oldest boy marched towards the wall and went through. Draco blinked twice. Huh. Seamless. 

"Hello there dearie, are you okay?" It took Draco a second to realise the woman was talking to him. 

"U-um, yeah I-I'm fine." Damn his stuttering. 

"Do you know how to get through?" She smiled down at him understandingly.

"Yes you r-run through and- "

"Draco!" Another voice called. A voice that was familiar.

"Harry?" Through the crowd of muggles the messy haired boy from the shop pushed his large trolley through. A snowy white owl sat in a cage on top of it. It made Draco jealous. He had wanted his own owl but the manor already had plenty and his father said that he could use their's. He didn't get a pet either, not even one of the baby peacocks to look after for the year. And he'd just started reading about how to care for them. 

"Uh, hi! How are you?" The other boy asked, struggling to push his packed trolley along.

"I'm o-okay, I was just about to go onto the Platform for the Hogwarts Express." While they were having their second meeting, Draco could spot the nice woman leading her twins through the platform, leaving only the nervous boy and the excitable little girl. 

"Okay then, who's going next?" The plump woman addressed the first years. 

"Um, well, the thing is - the thing is I don't know how to -" Harry began.

"How to get onto the Platform?" She asked kindly, the understanding face seeming to be her default. Harry nodded. "Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous." She turned to Draco. "How about you do it first." She said. "You look smart enough to be an example for how it works". He smiled happily. 

"Okay then." He grabbed onto his trolley and looked at the barrier, getting ready. Much like he remembered the confident older boy do so, he marched up to it. He saw the brick getting closer and closer, but he pushed forward proudly, faster and faster and -

He was through. 

He got out of the way for the other boys to come through and looked around the bustling Platform. The train was a scarlet steam engine, with a sign above it labeling it the 'Hogwarts Express'. He looked over to the ticket booth for tickets and only then did it hit him. He was going to Hogwarts! He grinned widely and when no one was looking, did a little fist pump in excitement. Finally! 

From the barrier he saw Harry and the ginger boy come through, both of there faces lighting up in wonder. Then Harry spotted him. 

He had a large smile. "Wasn't that amazing?!" Draco smiled back. It was relatively tame magic but for someone of Harry's upbringing, he could understand the excitement. 

"It was." Draco looked past Harry to the nervous ginger boy. "What's your name?"

"Ron. Ron Weasley." The boy smiled. A Weasley? Draco tried to keep his face impassive and his opinion unbiased, but it was difficult with what his father had told him about Weasleys. Apparently they're just as good as Weasels, they live in a filthy hovel, have too many red haired children, and are as poor as dirt. Draco tried not to let any of that affect his view of Ron. 

"Cool. Let's find a free compartment."

"I'll catch up with you. I need to say goodbye to Mum and Ginny first." He jerked a thumb behind him to Mrs Weasley. 

"We'll see you then. Come on Harry," he tried to be confident as he led them across the Platform. Around them cats crawled and hissed at their feet while Owls hooted at one another. Draco tried to keep a targeted mind to keep himself from getting lost in the euphoria that was going to Hogwarts. 

"Where's you mum?" Harry asked him from behind. 

"She couldn't come with me to King's Cross. Too many people. I said goodbye to her at the Manor." He would miss her so.

"The manor? You live in a manor?!" Harry asked, flabbergasted. Draco nodded, keeping his eye out for a free compartment. 

"Oh, here's one!" He opened up the door and began piling in his luggage. Harry started of with his owl, which Draco just had to comment on. "She's a beautiful owl."

"Thanks. Her name is Hedwig."

"Oh nice, a German name, right?"

"I'm not sure, I just saw the name in A History Of Magic. It sounded nice."

"I think it means combat or duel. Pretty cool name for an owl. The family owl I'm allowed to use is called Pluto. He's an Eurasian Eagle-Owl. Very big and can carry large packages, but it's quite painful if he lands on your shoulder. And he's no where as pretty as yours." Draco says as he helps Harry with piling their luggage in the compartment. Once they'd piled all of their suitcases and things under the seats, they sat down. On instinct, Draco straightened his back and locked his knees, keeping his hands neatly on his lap.

"Hagrid got her for me. For my birthday. He shouldn't have really, I didn't need a gift..."

"What do you mean, you didn't need a gift? Don't muggles give gifts at birthdays?" Draco asked, cocking his head. 

"Oh, yeah, they definitely do. My cousin always had piles and piles of presents for Christmas and his birthday. I...didn't. Usually. I mean it's fine, I don't deserve them anyway, and Hagrid shouldn't have spent money on it, I could have paid, it would have been fine but he insisted...I should probably pay him back when I see him again he shouldn't have worried..."

"What do you mean you don't deserve gifts?" Draco got many gifts at Christmas and Birthdays. But over the years it had evolved from toys and sweets to purely books. Father knew what Draco liked, so what's the point in spending more time looking for gifts when books to study will do just as well? Last Christmas he'd gotten a butterfly in a jar from his mother. He didn't question how she did it, but knew he had to set it free as soon as possible. By Boxing Day the butterfly had died in the jar and Draco had a funeral for it in the grounds later that day. His birthday gift was a book of bedtime stories he'd left in the kitchen. She'd picked it up and re-gifted it to him obliviously. He was just thankful it wasn't another animal in a jar.

"I mean, I don't really need them at all. I have money left from my parents now as well, so nobody needs to buy me anything."

"But that's the fun of birthdays. Not needing to buy stuff yourself."

"I suppose so."

The carriage had drifted in an uncomfortable silence. Both boys didn't know what to add and were quietly fiddling with there hands, looking the other way. Thankfully a red haired boy intervened at just that moment.

"Hi! Mind if I sit here?" Draco shook his head and gestured to the seat beside him.

"Come on in."

Harry looked ready to talk again.

"Hi, your name's Ron, right?"

"Yep, that's right, Ronald Weasley! And, uh, you are?" He asked Harry.

"My name's Harry, Harry Potter." Ron's face went paler.

"Bloody Hell, you're Harry Potter?! He'd Harry Potter?" He asked Draco, gesturing wildly.

"Um, yes. He is." Draco said, experiencing second hand embarrassment that he probably acted exactly as this boy was.

"Blimey! Going to Hogwarts with the boy who defeated You-Know-Who. Wait...does he...do you have the - the you know..." His voice quietened down to a whisper as he pointed to his forehead. Harry nodded and lifted his fringe, revealing the bolts of lightening that streaked about it, ending behind both of his ears. "Bloody Hell! That's the real deal, that is. That's incredible! And you really got that from battling You-Know-Who?"

"I did." Harry said. "But I can't remember."

"Nothing at all?" Ron looked eager.

"Well...I think I remember a lot of green light. But nothing else. I was just a baby."

"Wow..." Ron trailed off. "So, were you really raised by muggles? What are they like?"

"Horrible. Well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are the worst, though. I wish I had siblings." Harry looked envious of Ron.

"Trust me, you do not. I have five brother and an annoying little sister and they're all the worst. I'm not one of the older ones so I don't get special privileges but I'm not the youngest so I'm not let off easily. I don't even have a twin! I'm the sixth in my family..." Draco stopped listening. It appeared he wouldn't get any information on being raised by Muggles and it was rude to interrupt so he just removed himself from the conversation. He pulled out a copy of the Big Book Of Stories, Tales, Myths and Legends from the top of his suitcases and began flicking through until he found the Myth of Gale and Rowan.

Gale and Rowan were regarded as some of the best known Wizards in 11th Century France. Gale excelled in charms and Rowan excelled in potioneering, both helping the muggle community secretly while in La Rochelle. 

But they had a terrible secret...they loved each other! Both being men, this was looked down upon by muggles, so they had to hide this from their town. Ordinarily the wizarding community would be fine with it, but they were going through a terrible drop in the wizarding population, and needed new magical children as soon as possible. Both being great wizards, they needed to give on their genes to the next generation, and so could not be together. 

Both of their families nearly ripped them apart; Gale coming from muggles and Rowan being a Pureblood. Rowan couldn't ever step away from his family, he had to carry on the lineage. So he agreed to everyone that he would sacrifice his happiness and marry Madamoiselle Margeaux Denaelle. The decision broke both of their hearts but Rowan new it was for the best.

The wedding was in a month, and Rowan was forbidden to see Gale until after it was over. In this month however, Gale was working on a new spell. A spell that would save their love.

The night before the wedding, Gale managed to sneak Rowan out of his home onto a La Rochelle dock. In the moonlight besides the sea was where Gale Proposed to Rowan, promising his heart and magic if he would take it. Rowan did. And so Gale cast the spell onto the both of them, bonding their hearts and their magic forever.

At the wedding the next day Gale crashes it, and reveals the spell he cast. He claims that out of spite he took away both of their magic , and that they could no longer use a wand. They presented all the spells they knew for the audience while holding their wands and it appeared to be true. Since they were now squibs, the Wizarding community denounced them and exiled them to live among muggles.

In truth, Gale had managed to make him and Rowan the first wandless magic users, and they lived out the rest of their days in house beside the sea, helping muggles. Secretly but happily.

Draco loved this story. It was not as badass as the underdog story of Pluto the dragon tamer, but it was happier. He knew that if Lucius were to find it in the book he would burn the lovely pages, so he kept them as pristine and dog-ear-less as possible so as not to draw attention to them.

After a couple of hours of Draco reading and the boys talking, Ron suddenly turned to him.

"Hey, I don't think I caught your name." Ron said. 

"I'm Draco Malfoy." Draco tried to sound proud. Ron's face curled into a disgusted expression.

"Malfoy? Wasn't your dad one of You-Know-Who's supporters?" Harry's eyes widened and Draco cringed. He had hoped his father's past wouldn't be brought up.

"He was. But he isn't any more. A-and anyway, he was bewitched!" He claimed, remembering his father's excuse. Ron didn't look like he believed it. To be honest, Draco didn't either.

"Yeah right. And what's with your name? Draaaacoooo. It sounds pretentious." Draco felt anger curl up inside him.

"Hey! My M-Mother gave me my name and it's the constellation o-of a dragon, Draconis! She l-likes the name a-and so do I." He replied, his face flushing.

"Oh yeah, your mum. Didn't she go loony a couple of years back? No one sees her outside of your big old mansion for months at a time. I've heard she turned to booze and is stuck drinking her cares away in that giant house of yours." Draco saw red.

"How dare you! My Mother is not a loony and she is not an alcoholic! She is perfectly fine and is the greatest person in the world! Maybe the reason she doesn't go outside a lot is because she'll end up meeting awful people like you!" He yelled at Ron furiously. 

There was silence in the carriage. 

Then a knock at the door.

Draco slid it open to a plump happy woman who reminded her of Ron's mother. 

"Anything off the trolley dears?" She asked them while pushing along a cart piled high with sweets.

"No thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk. Excuse me." Draco picked up his book and held it tightly to his chest as he exited past the trolley lady.

In the hallway of the train, Draco walked. He wasn't looking for anything or anyone, he just wanted to get away from that awful Weasley. So lost in his own thoughts, Draco almost fell over a student who was crouched down on the floor.

"Whoa!" Draco steadied himself, gripping his book tighter. "What are you doing on the floor?" He asked the crouched figure. The person jumped up alarmed, and turned to face him.

"Sorry, it's just I've - I've lost my pet toad Trevor, I can't find him. My nan's going to kill me." The boy panicked. The boy had dirty blonde hair and was wearing a brown and green striped jumper. He was fiddling with his hands anxiously and looked to be shy of Draco's presence.

"I'll help you find him then. I'm Draco, what's your name?" Draco asked, holding out a hand for the boy to take.

"Neville. Neville Longbottom." Ah, a Longbottom. One of the Sacred 28. Draco had heard of him. His parents had been tortured to insanity by his 'Aunt Bella'. He guiltily felt closer to Neville as he thought about the state of his own mother. Neville took his hand and Draco heaved him up.

"Where did you see him last?" 

"He was in his box in my carriage. He escaped somehow, and I already searched the entire carriage top to bottom, so I tried looking out here. Oh, he could be anywhere!" The boy said, panicked. 

"Don't worry. He's a toad, he could only go so far." Draco thought for a moment. "Have you tried summoning him?" 

"You mean Accio-ing him?" Neville asked, looking concerned.

"It works on live things. Do you want to try?" Draco asked.

"Oh no, I'm rubbish at magic. I don't even know the wand movement." Neville looked sheepish. 

"It's easy, really. Just a curve of the wrist. You have to have the image of what you want summoned clear in your mind, and then you utter 'Accio'" Draco demonstrated the movement with his own wand. Neville grasped around for the wand in his back pocket and held it with two hands.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt him..."

"He'll be fine, I promise. Just try."

"O-okay." Neville held his wand out and waved it in a curve. "Accio Trevor!"

Nothing happened for a moment. 

And another moment.

And another.

"Gah!" Neville yelled out suddenly as a toad flew past Draco and into his face. "Trevor! Don't run - or I guess hop - off again! I couldn't find you for forever! How did you get out of your box?" Neville scolded the toad on his face. Draco nearly snickered at the display, but kept it in.

"What's going on out here? I here magic!" A girl from another carriage burst into the hallway. She had dark brown skin and lighter brown hair. Her hair was bushy and seemed to be trying to get of off her head, curling around in stray locks. She had slight buck teeth and a bossy sort of voice. Draco liked her already.

"We were just doing a spell to get back Neville's pet toad." Draco explained. He then turned to Neville. "Can I move into your carriage? Some people in mine are rather...rather rude." Neville's face lit up.

"Sure! If you're sure you'd want to, my carriage is empty other than for me."

"Perfect, I'll get my things." Draco turned to the bushy haired girl. "It was nice to meet you miss..."

"Granger! Hermione Granger, yes." She answered immediately. Draco nodded and turned back around to his original carriage. 

Once he'd made it he peered through the window. The two boys inside were sitting on a pile of sweets and were exchanging chocolate frogs. Draco never liked chocolate frogs much. He didn't like food that moved, and was never one for collecting cards. Harry just laughed at something Weasley had said, and Draco couldn't help but feel bitter about it. He stomped those feeling down and entered with a blank face. 

"I'm just here for my things." He heaved up his suitcases from under the seat. Both Harry and Ron had fallen into silence and were now staring at him as he struggled. 

"Do you want any help?" Harry asked.

"No thank you, I am fine." Draco said. His face and voice softened a tad when he saw Harry's expression. "I'll see you when we get to school. Maybe." He looked to Ron. "Weasley." He managed to make it seem like a greeting, a farewell and a slur at the same time, with a careful derision he was rather proud of. He heaved his suitcases out of there and closed the door behind him, his trousers now covered in chocolate stains. 

Once he made it back to Neville's carriage, he saw that Hermione was in there as well, looking to be chatting his poor ear off. 

"- And as it turns out, they haven't even recorded all of the possible secret rooms and passageways in the castle, and that new ones are discovered and kept secret as each school year goes by, so there's a good chance that we could find one. Of course, I won't have the time, as I'll be learning as much as I can about the wizarding world. I need to know the laws, it's full school curriculum, how it transfers to the huma- I mean the 'muggle' world. I want to know the origins of wizardry, and how you've managed to keep it so secret. I'm guessing there's a memory spell, because you can't keep an entire world a secret without making some slip ups, right?"

"Are you a muggleborn?" Draco interrupted. 

"I suppose I am. Are you?" She asked him primly. 

"I'm a Pureblood. So is Neville." Draco nodded his head towards the other boy as he sat down. 

"Pureblood, doesn't that mean pure wizard? Like magic from all sides of the family?" She asked.

"Kind of. It means you have an extensive heritage of wizardry on both sides. Mine goes wayyyyyyy back. So anyway, you're a muggleborn. I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask you about the muggle world." He said, getting right to the point.

"And I have a couple of things I'd like to know about the wizarding world." She said back bossily, standing her ground. They both ended up staring each other down with Neville in the middle, both wanting information and on a quest to get it. 

"What if you do it a question for a question?" Neville intervened, getting slightly scared. They both turned to him then back to each other. The tension in the room evaporating they both agreed and nodded to this.

"Okay I got first question! What school house do you think you'll be in? I'd like to be in Gryffindor because it sounds like the best. Albus Dumbledore himself was in it!" Hermione shot out.

"Oh no way is Gryffindor the best! Don't you know that Merlin was a Slytherin! And Newt Scamander was a Hufflepuff! Recklessness usually gets both people hurt, it doesn't save one person, and why self sacrifice when there's probably another..." They continued to question and bicker for the rest of train ride. Neville tried acting as the mediator every time things got heated, but eventually gave up. 

They carried on until they got to Hogwarts.

And after they got to Hogwarts.

Of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	4. The Sorting Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting Ceremony. 1st September 1991

Hermione and Draco continued there discussion from the train, onto the boats, and all the way up the stairs. Neville mostly stayed out of it, only offering the odd opinion and acting as the mediator to stop anything from escalating between the two philomaths. 

" - And that's how electricity works."

"Really? And muggles have been developing this for the last century or so? Incredible! If only the wizarding world were more open to adapting, we could really evolve faster than ever! This technology could fly past better, right down to revolutionary!"

"Okay it's my turn for a question. Does Hogwarts really not teach Maths or English?"

"I mean we have Arithmancy which I suppose deals with numeracy in a sense, but is more focused around Divination. All wizard children learnt about what you would consider the basic muggle subjects from a young age, and then we drop them when we come to Hogwarts."

"But what if you forget? The young mind needs to have a constant stimulai for the topic or else it might slip by the waysi -"

She was interrupted by a large door swinging open. On the other side of it was a tall, harsh looking woman in emerald green robes. She had black hair, a pointed hat and a stern face. She was all sharp edges and had an presence that demanded respect.

"The firs'- years, Professor McGonagall." Said Hagrid. Her eyes scanned the group of anxious students.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled open the doors wide to reveal what Draco assumed was The Entrance Hall.

It's size reminded Draco of the manor's ballroom, except instead of a large chandelier, the room was lit with flaming torches. A marble staircase led them all to the upper floors. Draco could hear babbling from further along and deduced that the rest of the school were already there. It would make sense, since only the first years could use the boats across the lake, and they needed a large audience for the sorting. 

Professor McGonogall filed them all into a small empty chamber off the hall, and Draco found himself having the tug on Neville and Hermione's robes to keep them moving as they were still taking in the castle. The castle so far had only reminded Draco of the East wing of the manor, and had made him a bit uncomfortable. He hoped all of the castle wasn't like this. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Mcgonogall's voice broke through the chatter. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room." This whole talk was simultaniously making Draco feel more excited and more nervous. He would be in Slytherin, and his father had already explained the way the dorms worked and how he would be at the top of the class hierarchy because of his family's wealth and prestige. 

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has it's own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while your rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." Draco hoped so too.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can." Draco caught her glancing at Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear. Instinctively Draco went in front of him and immediately starting smarting him up, refastening his cloak properly, and smoothing out the creases. He'd had practice from Narcissa's many questionable fashion choices over the years so he was adept at making Neville look more suitable. Hermione watched all this with a smirk.

"Are you quite done, mother duck?" She asked snarkily. Draco coloured slightly and let go of Neville to wipe at the chocolate on his own trousers. He wondered why all of his nicknames featured ducks. Neville instead smiled thankfully and focused once more on McGonagall. 

"I shall return when we are ready for you," she said. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber. 

Draco overheard Harry and the Weasley talking loudly about how they were going to be sorted. When Weasley mentioned a test, he saw Hermione tense up.  
"A test? I didn't know there was going to be a test! Which spell would I need. I only practiced the ones that were in the school books, but does it rely on more of an improvisational tone? Is it altered to fit each student, or would it be the same throughout? Is it a duel or practical?" She rambled on, seemingly to herself. Draco nudged her shoulder.

"There isn't a test, don't worry. I've read about the sorting, they put the magic sorting hat on your head and it reads your mind to deduce which house you would fit best in by your qualities. There's no way to fail. Unless you have a very diverse personality, but then the sorting hat just makes a decision. I've heard it even takes opinion into account sometimes. So I wouldn't worry." He was saying that to himself as much as he was saying it to her. He saw some people as well as Hermione sigh a little in relief when he explained this.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, about 20 ghosts streamed through the wall and the children. He heard yells and screams, one coming from Neville, but couldn't but watch the transparent figures in fascination.

They appeared to be arguing, and they all varied drastically. Draco had read about ghosts a lot, they were featured quite a bit in his story book. He even swore he recognised some from the pictures, pulled right out of legend. He clenched his fists excitedly.

" - Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had noticed the first years. Draco looked up at him with a gasp. 

"Are you Duke Richard Robert Hensington The Rich?" He asked the ghost, who was looking at him with newfound interest. 

"Why yes I am! Finally, someone with a good taste in history! I say, boy, where did you hear of me?" The ghost asked Draco with a proud posture, smoothing back what little hair he had.

"You're in the Big Book Of Stories, Tales, Myths and Legends, sir." Draco explained. 

"Of course I'm a legend, I'm legendary!" Draco refrained from mentioning that the ghost's life and death were considered more cautionary fairy tales. The other students were watching in awe as Draco talked to the smug ghost, some cowering away from the pearly white form as he floated upwards. "So which one of you little first years cares to hear the legend of the great, the incredible, the breathtaking -!"

"Move along now," a sharp voice cut in. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The flying Duke frowned at the interruption, but floated after the other ghosts into the hall. "Now form a line," McGonagall instructed, "and follow me."

Draco clasped his hands together nervously, but followed after McGonagall, staying right behind an eager Hermione and right before an anxious Neville. 

Around them thousands of candles bobbed up and down across the hall, giving both a soft and harsh glow at the same time. There were four long tables stretching out, representing each house. Said tables were laid with golden plates and goblets, the candlelight bouncing off of them, causing them all to shimmer. 

The effect was ethereal. 

At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers all sat. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here so that came to a halt in a straight line, facing the other students. All faces were looking at them, the attention clearly making some of the children a bit uncomfortable. The ghosts wandered the tables in a pale silver light, paying less attention than the students, simply being there for the effect. Draco looked up at the ceiling, a starry night staring back at him, showing constellations so clearly it was as if the ceiling had opened up to the heavens. He could here Hermione whisper "Even better than the pictures," as she too looked up at the sky.

Professor McGonagall put out a wooden stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a large pointed wizard's hat. This one was old and dusty, looking to fall apart at the seams at any moment. The sorting hat, Draco realised. 

The whole hall was quiet, staring at the hat. The hat twitched. Once. Then twice. It then opened a rip near the brim wide, like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The Great Hall burst into applause at it's finish and Draco couldn't help but do the same in sheer confusion. He heard a voice near the back start yelling a bit but it was shushed as quickly as it started. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a large roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with long blonde pigtails stumbled out the line from behind Neville. Her face was flushed pink with excitement. She put on the hat, letting it fall over her eyes, and sat down on the stool. Not a moment of silence went by before the sorting hat announced:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped for her with an enthusiasm Draco new would calm down as the sorting went on. 

Another girl with a short black bob flounced to the front as McGonagall called, "Bones, Susan!"

She sat on the stool and slipped on the tattered hat. This time it took a little longer before the hat called out:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

Quite a short boy with shoulder length brown hair hesitantly walked to the stool. Draco could see the boy flapping the hands that were by his side. McGonagall noticed too, but simply handed the boy the hat with a small smile, a comforting gesture that looked odd on the woman's stern facial features. The boy grabbed the hat and sat on the stool. This time it took the longest. He saw the hat crunch up on itself as if in a thinking expression before it yelled out loudly:

"RAVENCLAW!"

This startled the boy, as did the round of applause that came from the Ravenclaw table. McGonagall took the hat off the boy's head and pushed him towards the Ravenclaw table. He was now in Draco's view and Draco saw his expression grow into a slight panic as he flapped his hands some more. Over the noise he sounded to be clicking his tongue fastly, and his eyes darted about. The boy, Terry, made eye contact with Draco and Draco tried giving him a small smile. The boy bit his tongue and the flapping softened as he sat down. Draco focused his attention back to the sorting. 

First years Draco didn't know continued to be sorted into Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff in that order. The time it took to sort seemed to vary on the person, such as for Seamus Finnigan, who took over a minute to be sorted into Gryffindor. Most of the children stayed smiling, so Draco imagined that the hat wasn't overtly reading their minds. It didn't do much to quench the nervousness that pooled in the bottom of his stomach. 

Finally, Hermione was called up. She turned to him with a quick nervous grin before walking up proudly. She sat down and put the hat on her head right away. It took about 10 seconds before the hat yelled out:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione smiled widly and went to sit at the gold and red table with the applauding students. Draco was happy for her, it was the house she wanted most to be in, but couldn't help but wish that she'd made it into Slytherin, where he'd be.

Still, to show support, he caught her eye and gave her a big thumbs up, and saw Neville mirror his motion from behind. Neville stood to attention as soon as Professor McGonagall called out, "Longbottom, Neville!"

Draco gave his hand a quick squeeze as he walked past him, and Neville gave a grateful smile in return. He walked over to the stool a bit more confidently and put on the sorting hat. 

For Neville it took a while longer. A whole minute with the hat on his head he sat on that wooden stool. Draco could admit to feeling a bit worried, as this was the longest the hat had gone before making a decision this sorting. Finally the hat grumbled out:

"GRYFFINDOR!" 

Excitement filled Neville's face as he raced off the stool with the ratty old hat still on his head. After sorting that situation out to many bouts of laughter, he sat next to Hermione. Draco guiltily felt the same things he'd felt about Hermione's sorting. Sure he'd make other friends in Slytherin, but he rather liked those two. 

A few more students were sorted into their respected houses until Draco was called up. He put all his worries out in front of him, and then folded them neatly away. He then put them in a drawer in his mind, and locked it up. He was a Malfoy, and he was going to go up in front of the entire school to be sorted into Slytherin. Now is not the time to panic.

He walked up briskly and took the hat. He sat on the stool and waited with a cool expression. 

"Well now, it's been a while since I've had a Malfoy...especially one as strange as you..." A croaky old voice whispered in his ear. He shivered. It was awfully strange. "Now where to put you..." Draco hesitated.

'Slytherin of course.' He thought into the hat. The hat gave a weary chuckle in response.

"No, now that would be easy, lazy. You deserve to be in a house you belong."

'But I do belong in Slytherin!' Draco thought louder. 'I should be in Slytherin!'

"Should you?" The hat asked. "Is that what you want? Well you don't have much ambition...you have a lot of intelligence and loyalty...oh, and a caring nature...maybe Hufflepuff? No, I think you'd do far better in another house... RAVENCLAW!" The hat yelled out to the hall. It was then that Draco realised his sorting had taken the longest out of all of them.

The Great Hall was silent. 

Everyone knew who he was.

What he was meant to be.

Everyone knew what a mistake he was.

McGonagall took the hat off his head and pushed him towards a quiet Ravenclaw table. Some muggleborns and first years gave a confused applause as he sat down. It was then that his panic broke loose from the drawer in his mind to his entire body. 

He felt too cold, too hot, everything was too loud and too quiet. He couldn't focus on the goblet directly in front of him and his vision kept shaking. All he could think of was what trouble he was in. 'Father's going to kill me. Father's going to kill me. Father's going to kill me,' was all that cycled in his mind. He blocked out the rest of the sorting and tried to keep his breathing quiet. 

It was then that Draco noticed a tapping on his right shoulder. He turned around to see the first Ravenclaw boy, Terry, sitting by his side. At the sudden eye contact Terry smiled at him and put two thumbs up, and Draco couldn't help but feel endeared. Draco breathed in deeply and gave Terry two shaky thumbs up in return. At this, his grin grew wider. An applause from a sorting Draco didn't pay attention to rang out and Draco watched as Terry dropped his thumbs up to cover his ears. Draco, still not handling the noise great either, copied Terry. Terry smiled and him wordlessly and focused his gaze onto the sorting.

Draco could only stare at the table, blocking everything out. He felt like he'd been left out in the rain overnight, and couldn't muster a grin. He felt empty other than a seeping dread that overcame him. His father would find out and he would get in trouble. He didn't enjoy the feast and ignored any questions or jabs the other Ravenclaws made. Despite being empty, he wasn't hungry, not even for his favourite, chocolate pudding.

He just felt alone.

What was he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This was the most fun to write, but I did use a bit of dialogue from the books. (I obviously don't own Harry Potter). I will flesh out Terry's character more, as well as the other Ravenclaw boys. I'm kind of rewriting them as new characters compared to whatever dialogue snippets they had in the book. These boys are now mine. I adopted them. #RavenclawBois  
> If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	5. The Ravenclaw Dormitories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is introduced to the Ravenclaw Tower. 1st September 1991.

At the end of the feast, all first years were to follow the prefects to the dormitories. Draco stood up with everyone else as they all gathered around a witch with a prefect badge. 

"I am Meredith Stewart, and will be your prefect this year. You will follow me up to the Ravenclaw tower where your luggage will be. You will be separated into girls and boys, and will get to pick out your dorms if you are friends with anyone. And let this be a warning, if you can't sort this out between yourselves I will get you a dormitory plan and no one will get to be in a dorm with their new friends! Got it?" She gave them all look. It was a rather frightening look. At the students' collective nods, she smiled brightly again. "Great! Now let this be known that we are all a family in Ravenclaw, and we treat each other with respect. I don't care if she pulled your pigtails or he threw your book, save the animosity for being better than the other houses, and getting the house cup!" Some of the first years smiled at this. "Now follow me, and watch your steps on the staircases!" She turned around and all 15 students followed in her trail. 

Draco was still feeling morose, and walked a couple of steps behind the others in a sulk. Meredith noticed this, and watched as she beckoned Terry towards her. She whispered something in his ear, causing him to smile widely and nod. He then waited a couple seconds for Draco to catch up to him.

He looked at Draco strangely, as if trying to work him out. He then grabbed Draco's hand left hand with his right hand, surprising the blonde, and held it tightly. He grinned toothily at Draco. Draco smiled back nervously, and carried on walking with the group. Terry carried on holding his hand. 

They went up staircase after staircase, passed classroom and student before Draco decided to say something.

"Um, my name's Draco."

"I know." Terry responded promptly. Draco was thrown off for a second.

"Well...what's your name?" He already knew, but he just wanted to carry on the conversation.

"Terry." Another prompt response. Terry began to shift a bit, his free hand tapping at his leg a lot before he blurted out "I like Quidditch."

Draco was thrown off again, and quickly searched for a response. "I like Quidditch as well, but I'm terrible at playing it. I wanted to be a Seeker, but I never caught the snitch fast enough." Draco thought about his timed Quidditch practices with Lucius, the panic and stress that came with it. He just wanted to fly. 

"What's your position?" 

"I'm a Chaser. I'm pretty fast on a broom and always manage to get the Quaffle through the hoop. I did it one time when I was upside down, and the trajectory was perfect enough to throw the Keeper off and get into the hoop. I always practice Quidditch with my brothers and sister. My sister Diana is a Seeker, and she's the best at it. Her trophy is probably in Hogwarts. She plays professionally now, for the Holyhead Harpies. She plays with us less, so now my younger brother Albert is our Seeker, and he's pretty good at it. My brother's prefer to be Beaters so there's usually an uneven number of Chasers, but it doesn't matter, because I'm still good enough." He said this all in a matter of fact voice. He carried on

"I've liked Quidditch since I was a baby, because of Diana always needing someone to play with. She's the oldest so we all do what she says. I have 4 brothers, 4 sisters, and 6 cousins who stay with us, so now that Diana's gone there should be the perfect about of people for a game of Quidditch, but my brothers are always ruining it. They do every penalty they can, Blatching, Blurting, Haversacking, and Quaffle-pocking. The only reason we haven't done any Stooging is because I balance it out. I'm fairly certain my cousin Barnie invented a type of cheat where you hit the Bludger into the Snitch before the Seeker catches it, breaking the Snitch and their arm," he rambled on in an odd monotone. Draco listened with fascination. He'd never known somebody could have so many siblings! And cousins too!

"What are there names?" Draco tentatively interrupted. "Your brothers and sisters and cousins?" Terry looked at him for a second before facing forward again.

"My brothers are Nelson, Christopher, Clement and Albert, my sisters are Bella, Cory, Mauve and Diana, and my cousins are Barnie, Cecile, Laura, and the triplets Harry, Larry and Barry," he looked back to Draco, "I assume they were going with a theme." 

"That's amazing! I wish I had siblings!" Draco said quite loudly. Terry flinched at the sudden volume and the tapping to his leg carried on. Draco smiled awkwardly as an apology. He didn't think Terry got the message he was trying to convey. 

"Okay first years, listen up!" Meredith called out. They faced the front where the could see a tall door with bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. It was at the top of a spiral staircase and was presumably very high up, Draco thought back to the twists and turns they'd made and deduced that they were on the west side of Hogwarts. His time navigating the manor had payed off. The thought of the manor made him feel a bit queasy, so he focused instead on the bronze knocker.

"This is the entrance the Ravenclaw common rooms. Right here," she gestured to the knocker, "is your way in. The eagle will ask you a riddle, and if you answer correctly, it will let you in. If not, you have to wait for another person to come along." There was a look of panic that spread across the first year's faces. Meredith smiled at them cheekily. "You want to know a secret about the real way to get in?" The all nodded eagerly, especially Draco, who was ready for any Hogwarts secrets he could get. "You don't actually need to know about the answer that was intended for the riddle. As long as it fits the criteria, and you can defend your answer, the eagle will let you through. We Ravenclaws don't have time to be stuck outside our common room for five minutes trying to find out the meaning of life. 'If the answer is technically true, the eagle will always let you through.' Like this." She gave the knocker three sharp knocks. 

"I have two eyes but cannot see; what am I?" The eagle asked in a deep voice. Meredith turned back to the first years.

"Now this is a classic single word riddle, where you have to think of how it's spelled and take it apart. But an answer just as fitting would be..." She faced the eagle, "a person wearing a blindfold." You could nearly hear the eagle grumbling about 'Ravenclaws these days', before the door opened out. "Thank you Bernie!" Meredith called to the knocker before walking into the common room. The first years followed after her, all in awe. 

At the end of the group was Draco and Terry. Terry dropped Draco's hand for a moment to pet the eagle thoughtfully. "Thank you Bernie," he thanked the knocker just as Meredith did. They followed after the group. 

They stepped into a wide circular room filled with blue. It has graceful arched windows which were hung with blue and bronze silks. There was a midnight blue carpet, which Draco particularly liked, covered in stars. It reflected onto the domed ceiling, giving the incredible illusion of a night sky, reminiscent of the Great Hall. The room was furnished with blue tables, chairs, and a divan. There were many oohs and aahs coming from the new Ravenclaws as they admired the room. The walls had paintings of famous Ravenclaws, and Draco could make out Laverne de Montmorency, inventor of love potions, lying back on a divan herself within her portrait. The room was lit by lanterns that hung between the many windows, each one a different shade of blue with a flame inside. Draco saw some of the older years gathered around one, messing about by casting colour charms on the glass and changing it from blue to red to green yellow to blue again.  
Looking at all of the decorations, Draco tried his best not to think about how purely Ravenclaw this was. He was meant to be in the dungeons right now, being led by Professor Snape into the green and silver themed dormitories. 

Next to the door leading up to the dormitories stands a tall statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, made completely of white marble. She stood regally in front of a large niche full of books, a door in the center, most likely leading to yet more books. In front of the statue was where Meredith stopped. 

"To the left is the girls' dormitories, and to the right is the boys'. I wouldn't mix them up if I were you." She said, gesturing to either side. "There is a spiral staircase going up to the first years dorms. The older you get, the closer to the ground you get. You are all at the very top, so you get all of those wonderful stairs." She clasped her hands together while grinning as everyone groaned in pain. "There are three different rooms between you all, each with 4 beds. You can sort all of that out between yourselves, as long as you're sleeping a bed, I don't care where. Okay, you eight girls, come with me, I'll lead you up. Boys, just carry on going upwards, and at the top there'll be four doors and all of your luggage. Please don't fall down the stairs. Come on then, girls!" She led them up the left staircase. The remaining 7 boys went up the right one. 

After ten minutes of experiencing the agony of climbing the spiral staircase late at night, the boys came up to the top of the tower. Here there were three blue doorways with miniture eagles on the doorknobs, as well as all their luggage. Draco grabbed his suitcases and turned to Terry. 

"Would you like to be in a dorm with me?" Draco asked. Terry made eye contact for a second before looking away. 

"Yes." 

Draco smiled. 

He was then tapped on the shoulder. 

"Hey, uh, I'm Michael, and this is Anthony," a tall boy gestured behind him to where another boy stood. "These three are having a bit of a tiff over dorms so can we share with you guys?" He asked Draco and Terry. Draco peaked behind the other boy to the argument going on. Looked really annoying to get in the middle of. He gave a questioning glance to Terry and watched as he gave a thumbs up in response. 

"Y-yeah, no problem." Draco answered and opened up one of the doors. As he let go of the doorknob the miniature eagle spoke. 

"Have a good night!" 

The boys all flinched at the oddly deep voice speaking. 

"It's a weird aesthetic, I have to admit. Who was the one who told Rowena Ravenclaw to add that feature?" The tall boy, Michael, asked. 

"I know right," replied Anthony. 

They all piled into the room. It was a strange shape, and circular round the edge. There was a slight tilt at the ceiling, from the shape of the turret. It was larger than expected, but space must have been saved by having two bunkbeds. The room looked to be a square with a curve on the outer side, but if you were to add the shape of the en suite you would realise it resembled more a quarter circle. To the left of the door, both bunkbeds were against the wall. Next to them were four sets of silver drawers, one for each of them, each with a small ceramic bowl full of mint imperials on top of it. Draco couldn't tell if they were fake on not. Straight ahead there was a window that showed the night sky, with thick black curtains beside it. The bunkbeds were wooden and painted white, and the sheets were navy and grey. The walls were painted a soft sky blue, with little white clouds littering them. Lastly, the carpet was a circular striped pattern, going between bronze and royal blue.

Terry shot right to the first bunkbed, putting his suitcases underneath the bottom one and jumping onto the top bed. Anthony copied Terry's movements and sat underneath Terry, taking in the room. Michael went to the other bottom bunk and began taking his shoes off, leaving Draco with the last top bunk. Draco slid one of his suitcases underneath the bed, hesitantly taking the other one onto the top bunk. Walking up the steps right into the bed was a foreign concept, as he'd never been on a bunkbed beforehand, never having anyone to share with. 

Once he sat, he bounced experimentally. This was...fun? He bounced again. Quite a bouyant mattress. He bounced again. 

"Can you quit it, I feel like the bed's about to come down on top of me!" Michael's voice broke through the newfound enjoyment. Before Draco could apologise, Anthony interrupted.

"Don't be such an old man Michael, I've heard they're charmed to be safe," he looked up at Draco, "don't worry about Michael, he's just grumpy because he's tired."

"Meh meh meh meh meh," Michael imitated Anthony. Anthony just laughed. Draco felt out of the loop. "Hey, uh, blondie?" Draco peeked his head over the bunk in response. "What's your name again?"

"Draco. Draco Malfoy. And he's Terry." Draco pointed to the boy on the opposite bunk.

"Oh yeah, you're that Pureblood kid who was meant to be in Slytherin. My dad says that every single Malfoy has been a Slytherin since the beginning. He also said that they've all been ponces. That's pretty rough buddy." Michael didn't seem to be saying any of this with malice, just a bit of pity.

"Yeah, I'm a pretty big disappointment to the family." Draco accepted it. 

"What do you mean? You're the first in a long line of Slytherin ponces to be a Ravenclaw. That's a pretty big deal, but it doesn't mean it's a bad deal!" Anthony butted in.

"It definitely d-does. W-When my F-F-Father f-finds out h-he's going to b-b-be m-mad." Draco was once again filled with dread. He breathed in and folded it all away, and put it in a mental drawer. 

"Well that's pretty dumb. Everyone knows that Ravenclaw is the best!" Michael says proudly. Draco cracked a smile and hugged his knees. Terry stayed silent throughout this exchange, taking it in. When the boys all turned to him at once he bristled and tapped one of his legs.

"Uh. I like Quidditch." He cringed at his own sentence. The boys were quiet for a moment before Anthony stepped in.

"Cool, I do too! I can't wait until our first flying lesson. What's your position?" 

"I-I'm a Chaser, and I'm pretty good at it. I'm quite fast on a broom and always manage to get the Quaffle through the hoop. I did it one time when I was upside down, and -" He carried on rambling to Anthony in a similar fashion to when he did to Draco. Getting to talk about this seemed to make him so happy, and Anthony gave him his full attention. 

As Terry spoke, the boys all got changed into their pajamas and took turns brushing their teeth. 

"Goodnight ladies!" Michael called out jokingly as he turned off the light. Draco wondered idly what was funny about calling them 'ladies'.

"Don't worry about him guys, he knows this is the closest to sleeping in a room with a girl he's gonna get," Anthony added again. Michael and Anthony shared a laugh, and Terry and Draco followed it awkwardly.

Turning over in his bunk, Draco faced the wall. If he squinted, he could make out a cloud in the expanse of blue. The blue all around him was a stark reminder of how truly Ravenclaw this was. How Ravenclaw HE was. 

He was confused. Lucius had told him time and time again that he'd be in Slytherin. It was in his blood. All his ancestors had been, so why hadn't he? He considered whether his mother could've had an affair, but knew it wasn't true. He shared an awful resemblance with his father. 

He racked his tired mind whether a re-sorting could be arranged, but the hat had been said to never make a mistake. Besides, he'd never heard of any kind of ceremony to re-sort a student, and didn't want to cause that big of a fuss.

He'd just need to study. Get the best grades in the class. Be perfect in academics. Deep down he knew it wouldn't be enough to abide by his father, but mentally stuck to that plan. 

He would work. He would study. He would keep his head down. 

He would be the best Ravenclaw a Malfoy could be!

He hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Introducing my Ravenclaw bois and giving more information on Terry. Also adding some Ravenclaw dormitory info.  
> If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	6. First Day of Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half of the first day. 2nd September 1991.

"There he is, poor little guy."

"I wouldn't worry about him, he's probably just a dirty death eater spy."

"At 11 years old? Merlin, you're paranoid."

"Is that the Malfoy kid? Did the sorting hat make a mistake?"

"Who's that?"

"Son of Lucius Malfoy, a Slytherin and a death eater through and through."

"Leave the kid alone you gossiping gits!" Meredith's voice broke through the whispers directed at Draco. It had been going on since he left the dormitory. Meredith had guided the Ravenclaws back to the Great Hall and was sitting among them all. All of the muggleborns had immediately taken to her, and had set her as their Ravenclaw mother, to answer questions and help them with anything. She took to the role swiftly and had been a comforting presence for any first year. 

Draco's shoulders raised. "M-M-Meredith, you r-really don't h-have t-to, it's f-fine." She looked at him sharply.

"It's not fine Draco, you don't have to stand for this! You should be proud to be a Ravenclaw!" She said encouragingly. 

"Yes, exactly! Preach it! Ravenclaw pride!" Michael agreed loudly, trying to stand up. Anthony snickered and dragged Michael back to his seat by his robe. 

"I think you're a bit overenthusiastic for school." Anthony said.

"No such thing!"

Draco smiled hesitantly. He and Terry sat opposite the rambunctious boys, eating breakfast, hurrying to get their schedules from Professor Flitwick. The post had already come from the people with family owls. There wasn't a whole lot of it, but once the last owl had come, Draco breathed a large sigh of relief. And so he'd spent the majority of breakfast looking over to the Gryffindor table longingly. Harry and the Weasley were talking, as well as Hermione and Neville. It seemed he'd been completely forgotten. 

Don't get him wrong, he liked Terry and Anthony and, albeit a little less the loud personality of Michael, but he missed discussing the differences between the muggle world and the wizard one with Hermione. All three Ravenclaw boys were half-blood, so they only knew as much as Draco, probably less. He missed Neville as well, as even though he knew less, he was very interested in Draco as a person. He was actually interested in who Draco was, a thing Draco had never really encountered before. And both of them didn't care if he blabbered on. 

Once he'd finished his pastry, he shot right up to where Professor Flitwick was standing with the students schedules in front of the Ravenclaw table.  
"Draco Mafloy, sir." He said, ready to get his schedule. Terry trailed behind him. 

"Ah, now let's see here," the short little man flicked through the pile he kept in his hands. "Ah, here we go. Herbology first lesson, very nice." He handed Draco the weekly schedule. He read it through as Terry collected his. He imagined they'd all be the same as each other, but took comfort in knowing if they lost each other, he would know where to go. 

From across the hall, he saw Hermione as she collected her schedule from Professor McGonagall, her large hair being a beacon and a half. They made eye contact. He froze.

"Draco!" Hermione greeted, running across the front of the hall over to him. Before he knew what was happening, she was holding him in a tight embrace. He didn't know how to react. "How are you doing?" Before he could do anything she let him go. "How is Ravenclaw?"

"There's a lot of steps." Merlin, why did he say that? Hermione giggled.

"We have that same issue with Gryffindor. With anywhere in this castle really. It's so big! What does your schedule look like?" Draco internally sighed in relief. She hadn't forgotten about him!

They put their schedules next to each others to compare. 

"We do have Transfiguration together...and Charms! And Astronomy! Does that say at midnight on Wednesdays? We probably won't have time to talk then...we do have the daytime lessons though." As they were doing this Neville walked over to them.

"Hey Draco!" He greeted. "What's it like being a Ravenclaw?"

"Other than being a disappointment to my family and the person who single handedly took down a 500 year old lineage that has been so ingrained in the Malfoy name that the identity stems from it, It's alright. A lot of blue, though." Draco said in a casual tone while dying on the inside.

Hermione and Neville stared at him.

"Huh. I guess you were serious about the whole 'must be in Slytherin' thing," Hermione mentioned.

"I'm expecting a Howler from Father by tomorrow's breakfast."

"What's a Howler?" She asked.

"It's basically a letter that screams at you." Neville explained.

"The wizarding world is weird."

"Tell me about it." Draco mumbled, trying to hide his dread. "Hey, uh, would you two like to see what the library is like at break? I haven't seen it yet and want to see how it compares to the one at the manor."

"I still can't believe you live in a manor! A whole mansion and more...I bet you have quails or something. You've definitely learnt how to ride a horse and how to fire an arrow, and play polo and own a vineyard...and you definitely have some sort of exotic pet!" Hermione said smugly.

"We don't have quials, Father thinks they're too common, but we do have peacocks. Some of them are albino. I tried riding a horse, but it didn't work out." Turns out riding a horse is a lot different to riding a broomstick. "I do do archery," and had pretty good aim, "but I've never played polo. We do own a small vineyard, but I don't really care because I don't drink wine. And sorry to disappoint, but I've never owned any exotic pets." Unless you count the blue butterfly his mother had gifted him in a jar. "We're not really those kind of rich people."

"Yeah, sure, quick question; how big is your Christmas tree?" 

Draco flushed. "Okay, okay, fine, but none of the extravagant stuff really benefits me. Other than the library."

"And I still can't believe you own a library. I'd kill for my own library! My shelves are practically breaking under the weight of my books, it's not fair." She didn't seem as bothered about it as she sounded. 

"Uh, Hermione? As much as I like listening to you two talk about libraries, We kind of need to get to History of Magic in 10 minutes." Neville told the bushy haired girl.

"Oh, alright then, we'd better go! I want a seat at the front. Goodbye Draco, I'll see you in Charms!" Hermione waved him goodbye as she rushed off to class. Neville waved behind as well as followed after Hermione, at a bit of a slower pace.

"Those two looked nice." Terry's voice came from directly behind him. 

"Gah!" Draco shrieked in surprise. "You were so quiet!" 

"Not really, you were just loud."

"Okay then...how are you doing?" Terry put his thumb up in response. "I'm guessing our schedules match?" Terry put his next to Draco's for another comparison. They looked practically identicle, apart from a small note at the bottom of Terry's Friday evening. "What's this?"

"It's when McGonagall checks up on how I'm handling Hogwarts."

"How come?"

"I'm autistic." Draco turned to him in surprise. Terry averted eye contact. "High functioning, so you don't need to worry or anything, that anything'll happen. I'm fine, my Mum just wanted there to be a time for McGonagall to check on me in case I'm overwhelmed. She does it for the other autistic kids as well, so we do it as a group." Everything was clicking into place. 

"Huh." Draco thought for a moment. "That's interesting." A new source on information. Neurodevelopmental disorders and mental illnesses were topics buried well in the library and archives. He'd heard of the shunning that occurred if any baby showed signs that it was 'lesser' in any way. Usually a mercy kill. Quick and easy. Even if it were an ancient practice, it was proficient, because that is how a Malfoy should be. Those were usually the stories that he got if he ever asked his father for a bedtime story. Nightmare fuel with a vaguely threatening message, the message usually being 'if you mess up, you're next on the chopping block'.

Terry seemed to like his straightforward answer, because his leg tapping had stopped and he looked happier. 

"Hey boys, Herbology is in five minutes, we should probably run!" Michael called out to them, his hair mussed, schedule already looking destroyed, and robe tucked in ways robes should not be able to. His messed up hair kind of reminded Draco of Harry, and the ridiculous black bird's nest he carried around. Ridding thoughts of Harry, no...Potter, from his mind, he chased after the other three boys in a rush to make it to Herbology.

They made it to the class with seconds to spare.

==============

After the introductory Herbology lesson, it was time for Charms. The Herbology lesson had only been focused on the greenhouse rules and what they'd be studying that year. Draco had never been the most fond of Herbology, but that was only because his tutor had been a harsh man who took the fun out of everything. Draco had hated him, especially since he'd tried flirting with Narcissa on more than one occasion. To no avail, thank goodness. 

The four Ravenclaw boys walked back up the castle together. Michael seemed very into Herbology, especially the medical properties, and would not stop talking about it. 

"-that's not even including the incredible medicinal properties of crocodile vines, though the reason they aren't used as much in potions is because of the sheer mass needed for a proper reaction. They're very rare, and subsequently very expensive, as they can only be found in specific areas of the Amazon, although I heard the scientist Millie Fensworth is learning how to grow them in captivity. Isn't that great?! Just imagine what-" The other three boys had tuned him out by then. Terry looked oddly calm, and hadn't had a physical reaction for the entire lesson. Draco looked over to him, and realised that he was now holding Anthony's hand. The position of his wrist looked a bit uncomfortable, but Anthony looked to be okay with it. 

Surprisingly, yet unsurprisingly, Michael didn't run out of things to say by the time they were at Charms. In fact, he seemed to have talked himself into a tangent about the ways the rich were hogging the exotic yet medically benficial plants, and how "-they don't even know the proper use for the flower! They just think they look pretty, even though you're supposed to cut the bud off the stalk before it blooms so you can create the best kind of dittany! But no, sure, look at the pretty flower, because that's sooo useful. I even heard they use them to make a special kind of toffee, called Petal Toffee. Really? They're just finding more ways to waste-" Once Draco walked into the classroom he saw that there were only four kids already here. 

"Hey Draco! I saved you a seat!" Hermione called out to him. Her and Neville were sitting next to each other on a bench near the front, each seat having a feather in front of it. The other two kids were H-Potter and Weasley. Draco blocked them from his view. He walked over to Hermione's table, the Ravenclaw boys trailing behind. 

"Hey there, the name's Michael! Herbology expert and bad boy extrordinaire!" Michael introduced himself to Neville with a completely straight face. Anthony snorted out a laugh. 

"How are you a bad boy?" Terry asked. 

"Don't worry about him , he's just a big joke." Anthony answered for him, leading Terry to the bench above where Hermione sat by his held hand. 

Draco sat on the other side of Hermione and Michael slid over the table next to Neville. 

"What was your last lesson?" Hermione asked Draco. 

"Herbology."

"Herbology?!" Neville asked quite loudly. They all turned to him as he flushed. "I quite like Herbology. I've never practiced with the plants themselves. Nan never let me get one."

"I love Herbology! As I said before, I'm a bit of an expert." Michael popped an imaginary collar. "I know my stuff."

"Do you know about the recent discovery of a new kind of sentient Myosotis variety? Apparently they can sing." Neville asked Michael.

"Eh, personally I think the so-called sentience is a bit over exaggerated. It can only sing after all. I know of plenty of brainless singers. C'mon, Celestina Warbeck?" Neville laughed at that. 

"What did you have last lesson?" Draco asked Hermione, getting used to tuning Michael out. 

"I had History of Magic. The teacher is a ghost!" She looked bewildered. "He has quite a droning and monotone voice, it makes it quite difficult to want to listen."

"That's a shame. I used to have a lovely History of Magic tutor, Miss Gown. She focused on all the interesting bits, even a bit of muggle history! I'm sorry Hermione, but muggles are so strange. You judge people on the colour of your skin! Why would you do that? We're all the same underneath." Draco said.

"We don't anymore! Well, most don't. Some do, but they're just idiots." She looked down sadly for a moment. "And as if you're the one to talk about muggles being weird, what about you wizards? Yesterday on the train, I distinctly remember you explaining the 'blood purity' and how some people are considered 'lesser' because of not being a pureblood. Last time I checked, both of our blood was still red." She argued back.

"Fine, I digress. Humanity is what's weird. It just keeps on finding new ways to decide who's better or not, when what should decide it is how good a person you are. The only problem is, the people who decide what decides the hierarchy are usually the racist jerks, so they do what it takes to stay on top. They're also probably rich." He felt a slight guilt rise in him as he thought about his father and his wealth. 

"Precisely! That's why when I'm older, I plan to become Prime Minister!" She announced.

"And I'll become Minister of Magic. We'll rule the world together, you and I." They giggled. Draco wasn't sure that he wanted to become Minister, but he knew he wanted to make a good difference.

"Ah, as nice as it is to see some ambitious students in my classroom, I'm afraid we're only learning about Charms today." Professor Flitwick told them kindly while stacking a pile of books to stand at his podium. Once he'd done so, he stood at the front of class. "Everyone, please take your seats," He told the last of the Gryffindors as they filed into the classroom. He took the register and then gave an introduction before setting them their first task, the levitation spell. He gave them the movement and the phrase and set them off practicing, getting down from his pile of books to go round the classroom and guide students.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione tried. Her feather lifted off the desk and continued to rise. It rose to be 4 foot above everyone's head before she stopped.

"Oh, well done. Everyone, Miss Granger here has done it!" Flitwick cried out happily. Hermione's face immediately brightened as she guided the feather back down. Draco could see the Weasley scowl and mutter to Potter. Jealous of Hermione's talent, probably. "Draco, why don't you give it a go?" Draco gulped and nodded nervously.

Okay, this was it. His first bit of public magic. It was an easy spell, one he'd perfected long ago. It was simple too, he could practically do it wordlessly. But now wasn't the time to be showy, it was time to be good at something. He was a Malfoy. He was perfect.

He held his wand and focused on the spell as he aimed it down at the feather. "Wingardium Leviosa." Before he knew what was happening, the desk disloged itself and began floating towards the ceiling. "Merlin." Draco whispered as it continued to rise towards the ceiling. Everyone was ducking underneath their own desks for fear of the getting hit by his falling down. This was not good, not good, not at all! His internal panic was too much, he couldn't control it - he was useless - he couldn't do a simple spell right - he was bad - he - he -

Draco breathed in. He folded away his panic and put it in a mental drawer. He focused his magic and guided the desk back down as careful as possible, with small and steady wand movements. Precision. It was FINE. Soon enough, the desk was back on the floor, exactly as it was. He breathed a sigh of relief with everyone else. Then he looked at the shocked expression on Professor Flitwick's face. He fell apart.

"O-o-oh no, I-I'm s-s-so s-s-sorry, I just, I-I-I w-was tr-trying to levit-tate th-the feather a-and I l-lost control I-I'm s-s-so s-so s-sorry I-" Draco stuttered out in fear. Only second lesson and he was already a failure, was what he going to-

"That was incredible, my boy!" Flitwick said in elation. He did a happy little dance. "Absolutely incredible! Where you intention needs some work, your control and magic were tremendous! I've never seen such utter control from a pupil, especially a first year on their first day! My my my am I happy to have you in my house!" Draco could feel himself turning pink. Everyone's eyes were glued to him. Oh Zeus...

"W-what, r-r-really?" Draco asked. That wasn't control, he was going to drop the desk! 

Except he didn't.

He managed to guide it down. 

Huh.

"Of course young Mr Malfoy, you are a true charm prodigy. Well done indeed!" He congratulated the boy. "Now, as long as everyone's okay and not hurt, I'd like the rest of you to focus on your levitating. We still have five minutes left!" He resumed the lesson to normal. Except it wasn't. Everyone was still staring at Draco. 

"Draco, that was incredible!" Hermione said to him, eyes shining. "That was the most impressive magic I've ever seen! You were only suppose to lift the feather, but you lifted the desk! And no one got hurt at all!" 

"The problem IS that I lifted the desk, Hermione." Draco tried explaining. Why didn't anyone see? He was imperfect. That was BAD.

"Well, at least now you know what to focus on! Your intention. The object more than the spell. And you've got the spell down perfectly!"

"Yeah mate, that was awesome! Scary but awesome!" Anthony agreed from behind. Terry, who in a slightly more frazzled state had taken to holding Anthony's hand, nodded. As did Neville, though looking a bit more scared.

"Yes that was awesome! Imagine using that in a duel, and managing to throw a whole desk at someone! That would be a great move for combat!" Michael said excitedly. "Will you teach me?"

"And me! I want to learn how to levitate a greater object!" Hermione added. Draco smiled.

"I-If you'd l-like, then sure. We're going to the library at break anyways." Draco said. 

"Well then class, it is now time for break. You have 20 minutes until your next lessons. I can't wait to see you all again!" Professor Flitwick said, dismissing them all. "And another well done to you Mr Malfoy, great work!" He smiled as he put away the register.

On the way to the library Draco hears a sneer from behind him. 

"Of course, he nearly destroys a classroom, and then he gets rewarded for it." Weasley provoked. Draco cooled his emotions and flattened his facial expression.

"You've caught me Weasley. First step; accidentally lifting desks. Next step; world domination." Hermione chuckled.

"You are such a git."

"Ron!" Potter interrupted their little...whatever this was. "You're being unnecessarily rude to Draco. Stop it." He told Ron. Draco's eyebrows rose.

"Whatever." Weasley backed down reluctantly. Ha-Potter looked at him.

"Hi Draco. That was pretty cool, what you did in there." He complimented.

"Thanks Potter," Draco replied, closes off. Potter frowned.

"Um, I guess I'll see you the next lesson we have together?" 

"Yeah, I'll see you then." Draco confirms politely. It's an olive branch. It's a withered one but one just the same. Potter seems eager to take it.

"Cool! Have a good, uh, break! Come on Ron, didn't you want to show me something in the lake?" His smiled returns. So does Weasley's (unfortunately).

"Oh yeah, you'll never believe what I saw in there, it's crazy! I actually saw-" They walk away together. Draco looks after them for a moment too long before turning back to his group.

"To the library?" He's met with agreement. So they all walk to the library.

And everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've been trying to create the #RavenclawBois personalities so I've added more interaction. I kind of wrote up a Comprehensive school shedule for Ravenclaw, and who they have it with, so if you're confused about the way the subjects are working or the order of everything, just know that I've taken it into my own hands for my sake and less confusion. JK Rowling introduced the subjects thematically. I do it according to whatever the schedule I wrote up says. boom. I am so tired it's 1am.  
> If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	7. Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potions and Transfiguration class. 2nd September 1991.

The break was filled with desks being lifted and a couple of close calls. Michael wasn't the best at charms, and could only lift an inkwell, which he was very disappointed with. Neville had similar results, so they resigned themselves to discussing Herbology. Terry was quite good at Wingardium Leviosa, but didn't feel comfortable lifting anything heavier than a hardback book. Anthony and Hermione however...

"I lifted it higher, I swear I did!"

"Keep dreaming, girly, mine was practically 2 meters above the ground!"

"Well mine WAS 2 meters above the ground! So at least now you've admitted I'm the best chair lifter!"

"Oh please, you were practically popping a blood vessel with the effort. Face it, charms just isn't your thing."

"Oh I'll show you what my thing is! Wingardium Leviosa!" She sent a hardback flying into Anthony's chest. He landed on his back with an audible 'oof'. 

"Yesss, finally, excitement! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Michael began chanting. Terry put his hands over his ears and tucked his legs up onto his chair, while Draco once again thanked the gods that he remembered to set a silencing charm around this part of the library. Neville looked like he was about to be sick, and was clutching the edge of his chair with a death grip.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Anthony yelled from the floor. He lifted a schoolbag and dropped it onto Hermione's head. 

"Hey, that's my schoolbag! Stop fighting!" Michael finally stopped chanting.

"Can you both please stop? Who cares who lifted their chair higher? The height of the lift isn't really a good judge for magical capabilities." Draco stepped in between the two. Hermione was the first to rise off the floor, and brushed herself down. 

"I suppose you're right." She admitted, smoothing our her hair and standing up straight in an attempt to look more dignified.

"Yeah, besides, Draco's the best at it anyway. His desk was practically touching the ceiling of the charm's classroom." Anthony pointed out. Draco flushed. 

"That's true." Hermione conceded. 

"What's our next lesson?" Terry asked the other 4, uncurling himself. 

"Double Potions." Anthony answered him, packing away the charms book he used to practice Wingardium Leviosa. 

"Really? Best day ever!" Michael yelled excitedly. "I love Potions! My dad got me the Child's Potions Lab when I was younger, and I have a subscription to Draughts and Elixirs Weekly!" 

"So do I!" Draco says happily. Sure, the only reason he got the Child's Potions Lab was because of Lucius' need for Draco to be the best at each subject, but his mother got him the subscription to the magazine. He'd griped about wanting one absentmindedly while plaiting her hair, and he supposed she'd taken it into her own impulsive hands. She had an odd habit of getting Draco gifts behind both his and Lucius' backs. 

"Wasn't last week's edition great?" Michael asked, smiling.

"My favourite pages were about the Amortentia cases!"

"I know! The crazy stuff people get up to! Gives a guy ideas." Michael bounced his eyebrows at Anthony, who pretended to swoon into his arms. 

"Boys! Don't you have to go to Potions! Apparently it's in the dungeons." Hermione rounded their collective shenanigans up and set them back on track. As they left the library, she and Neville took a different turn. "We've got to get to Herbology. I'll see you in lunch!" The group of Ravenclaw boys waved to the Gryffindors until they turned round a corner. 

"Well we better hurry. We only have 2 minutes." Michael said, hurrying them along.

"My brother's said that Professor Snape is terrible, and that he's always upset and very dramatic. My sister's said that he's fine, but my brothers say that's just because of Slytherin favouritism. Christopher's in Gryffindor and says that Snape HATES Gryffindor with a burning passion. Don't know why though." Terry added as they jogged to the dungeons. 

They made it to the classroom just as Snape got out the register. He eyed them with annoyance, his pitch black eyes going over each of them. Draco saw those dark eyes widen slightly as the sight of himself and wanted to hide. 

"If you Ravenclaws were to sit down then maybe I could get on with the lesson." Professor Snape said in an even but threatening tone. They quickly shuffled into four seats that were next to each other. Draco was between Michael and Terry, with Anthony on Michael's right. 

After Snape was done with the register, he put it away and stood menacingly in front of the classroom, as if about to deliver a speech. Because of the apparent dramatics he possessed, Draco guessed he would.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he spoke in a quiet tone, pulling in the audience to hear. An effortless bid for control. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here," Draco saw Anthony scowl, "many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can even teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Draco had to stop himself from snorting at sheer dramatics of the speech. He exchanged a look with Michael and saw he felt the same. He bit his lip.  
"You will organise yourselves into pairs and will prepare a simple potion to cure boils; Mendaron. Please get out your textbooks and go to page 5. The instructions will also be written on the board." He explained. "The ingredients and tools are in the cupboard to the left. Do not spill anything or there will be consequences." And they all got to work. 

Snape's presence was an unwelcome one opposed to Draco's lab at home. He was a threatening and slightly scary presence, overlooking everyone. It was quite clear he liked control in his classroom, and everyone had better obtain that or so help them. 

Anthony and Michael had separated and were now working with Hufflepuffs, but Draco and Terry managed to stick together. Snape liked to add plenty of scrutiny and quips to those who were making their potions, but he'd had only positive things to say about Draco, even giving 5 points to Ravenclaw for the way he'd stewed the horned slugs. Draco felt uncomfortable with the attention, and kept his head down the entire time.

Halfway through the lesson, the cauldron began to make a sizzling noise as the horned slugs were added. Draco thought it quite nice, but apparently Terry disagreed.

"I hate that noise." He said matter of factly, taking a small step away from the potion. "It's really awful. Can you get it to stop?"

"No sorry." Said Draco apologetically. "It has to sizzle out before the next ingredient."

Terry started handflapping to ease the discomfort he felt. Draco cast a small containment charm around the cauldron so that it wouldn't spill anywhere, and to let Terry flap his hands more freely. 

"What on Earth are you doing boy?" Snape went to the front of their table to ask Terry. Terry clenched his hands and put them behind his back.

"I was just - um - I was only, I was only handflapping Sir." Terry stumbled over his words. 

"And why were you 'handflapping'?" Snape asked condescendingly. Draco saw Terry scratch at his arms. 

"Well the potion - it was um, was um, - the potion sounded bad, so I just..."

"So you didn't like how the potions sounded and decided to act out like a toddler?" Snape spat out. Terry looked like he was going to cry from frustration. "Your idiotic hand motions could of spilt the half-made potion everywhere! It could have hurt someone! Did you take that into account?" Draco raised his hand hesitantly. "What is it Mr Malfoy?" 

"I-I cast a c-containm-ment charm ar-round the p-potion so that it w-wouldn't s-spill." He explained, inching away from Snape's angered face. Terry looked at him with relief. 

"Well then, you didn't think to-" The Professor was interrupted by a sudden howl. Draco looked over to see a Hufflepuff girl shaking violently in pain next to an extremely concerned Michael. 

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow I feel like I'm on f-fire!" The girl sobbed out. "It hurts, it hurts a l-o-ot! Agh!" The girl's brown skin began turning a shade of awful red.  
Snape's eyebrows rose. "You must have not crushed the snake fangs enough," he said without a hint of remorse. "10 points from Hufflepuff." Michael's eyes widened in shock at his Professor's ruthlessness. Draco saw Michael think.

"But sir, it was me who had that job. I didn't do it well enough. I'll take her to the nurse." He lied to Snape's face. 

"10 points from Ravenclaw. Get her out of my classroom and tell Madame Pomfrey it's a venom burn." Snape directed harshly. Michael nodded and escorted the crying girl out of the classroom. He turned back to Draco and Terry. "5 more points from Ravenclaw for your ridiculousness. Next lesson I will not see you handflapping or anything of the sort." Terry nodded miserably. Snape looked to the rest of the class. "Get on with your potions or it's 5 points away from each student!" Everyone got back to work immediately.

"C'mon Terry, the cauldron's stopped sizzling." Draco tried to comfort the forlorn boy. Terry nodded along and they both got back to work. 

==============

At lunch they met up with Michael once again at the Ravenclaw table. 

"She would not stop crying and crying, it must have really hurt. She was almost completely red by the time Madame Pomfrey put on the burn salve. She's going to have to rest there until tomorrow morning. I told her I'll visit her with some victoria sponge cake during dinner and keep her company." Michael told them as he piled his plate with sandwiches. 

"Why did you take the blame for it? I know you wouldn't have made that mistake, so why subject yourself to Snape's wrath?" Draco asked him, Anthony and Terry nodding to this. 

"I feel like she'd already suffered enough, why add on Professor Snape and her classmate's wrath for losing housepoints? Besides, it's only 10 points from Ravenclaw, we can make those numbers back up." Said Michael. 

"Actually it's 15." Draco added sheepishly.

"What?"

"Snape took 5 points from Terry for handflapping." Terry began to look sad. "Which isn't your fault! I cast a containment charm around the potion and you were quite far away from it. It's not your fault that Professor Snape is a grump. You can handflap anytime you'd like." Terry grinned brightly at Draco for this. "But, maybe not in Potions class. Next time the potion sounds annoying, we'll get you some earplugs." Terry nodded with this. 

"Ugh! Snape is such a jerk!" Anthony yelled out, slamming his hands on the table. The usually calm and sensible boy was looking as angry as he did during his fight with Hermione. "He's over dramatic, grumpy, leans over your shoulder when you try to focus, takes points off injured students, and yells at students for handflapping of all things! You should allowed to be yourself Terry!" He told the smaller boy, whose face lit up even more at Anthony's pronouncement. 

"Yeah! Screw Snape! But uh, quick question; what is handflapping?" Michael added, quite unhelpfully. 

"It's a stim." Terry began. "It's a thing I do that helps me centered. It makes me feel happier when I hear, touch, smell or feel something that overwhelms me a bit. Or I have a sensory overload. I really like, um, bird noises and woolly jumpers. They make me feel safe." He explained promptly while fiddling with his cloak buttons.

"Why do you need a stim?" Michael asks. 

Terry flushed slightly. "I think it's because I'm autistic."

"Huh. Cool." Michael responded simply. "Thanks for sharing buddy." He smiled. "So back to the evil greasy haired topic, Snape. Why must we call for his downfall Anthony?" His voiced raised in a dramatic fashion.

"Because he's a biased oppressor!" Anthony said, slamming a book down on the table to make more noise, calling them to the attention of more Ravenclaws  
"And what else?"

"He hurt our friends!" Another slam on the table. Draco tried not to flinch with the familiar sound of a book slamming down, and dug his nails into his recovered arm.

"And what do we do with biased oppressors who hurt our friends?" It was really a wonder Snape himself hadn't hurt this uprising at this point.

"We get rid of them!" The largest slam of them all, the book shaking the table itself. 

"Goddamit first years! I've been trying to drink from my goblet for the past two minutes! Stop slamming the table!" Meredith's voice carried down with a chorus of agreements.

"Sorry!" Anthony and Michael called back in unison as they grinned at each other. Draco exchanged a look with Terry. What can you do? Draco looked up from the table and saw Hermione waving at him. He smiled and waved back, and she gestured to the doors, a motion that meant 'can we talk a second?'

"I'm going to go with Hermione, probably to the library. I'll see you guys next lesson!" He got up and waved to them. All three of them had their mouths full, so they just nodded and waved back. He walked down the table to the doors, and saw Hermione mirror him from the Gryffindor table. 

"How was Potions?" Hermione asked him once they were face to face.

"Um, eventful. I'll explain later, do you want to go to the library?" Draco asked.

"Sure. Oh, and Harry Potter will be coming with us."

"What? Why?" Draco asked bewildered.

"He came up to me during Herbology and asked if he could join our tutoring group. He wanted to work on his Wingardium Leviosa. He also mentioned that he didn't want to be kicked out if he wasn't good enough...can they do that? Will they kick you out of Hogwarts if you're not good enough?" Hermione asked him fearfully, her brown skin taking on a hint of green.

"No, I don't think they would. The school's way has always been to admit as many magical children as possible. I doubt they'd start throwing people out if your magic wasn't strong enough. Besides, it's not like you have anything to worry about." He nudged her shoulder teasingly. She smiled. 

"Well that's good then. So...he can join the group?" She asked. 

"Well..." She gave him a look. A motherly look, if he remembered one correctly. A look that made him feel small, an 'I'm right, you're wrong' look, a look you'd have to be made of solid steel to resist giving in.

And Draco was made of no such metal.

"Fine, Melindarea, he can join the group." He gave in exasperatedly. She cocked her head.

"Who's Melindarea?" He flushed pink.

"O-Oh, sorry, sh-she's just someone f-from a fairy tale." He was usually better at keeping in his internal comparisons of people to characters.  
"Well, why did you call me her name?" Hermione prompted.

"It's j-just that in h-her s-story, she's re-really g-good at c-convincing and p-persuading p-people to do what sh-she wants, and c-can t-turn people into m-mice w-with j-just one lo-look." He mumbled, embarrassed. Hermione was quiet for a minute. Then she began laughing. Oh gods, oh gods, this is why you don't blabber, this is why you don't stutter, this is why you keep quiet this is why-

"Ha! I wish I could do that with one look! I'm glad you think I'm persuasive though, that's how I'll become Prime Minister," she laughed.

"Hm." Draco smiled back shyly, his heart rate calming down a bit.

"Let's go to the library, I told Harry to meet us there."

"Okay."

==============

"Hi Draco." Harry greeted him with a smile as they entered their corner of the library. 

"Hi." Draco nodded to him formerly. "So I heard you wanted to work on Wingardium Leviosa?" 

"Oh uh yeah, I haven't quite gotten the hang of it, and you seem to be really good at it." Pfft, hardly. Opposed to what everyone was saying, managing to lift a desk instead of a feather was a show of failing, not of power. He'd rectified his mistake and would practice it later that night in the dorms. "I also heard that you're a pretty good teacher." 

Draco glanced at Hermione who smiled at him. He would've used the technique his charms teacher did, but she wasn't exactly the nurturing kind. He simply used the teaching advice from a book his substitute tutor had left out one week, The Many Good Ways To Teach A Child Magic. Draco had liked the substitute teacher, Mr Melbourne, he was kind, but Lucius had thought he went too easy on Draco and had gotten his old charms teacher back as soon as possible. 

"I'm alright. B-but Hermione and Anthony did practically teach themselves." He gave credit to them. He sat down on the table next to Harry. "What are you having trouble with?" He asked.

"All of it," Harry said miserably, "the feather won't budge. Maybe I'm not magic..."

"Nonsense! I'm sure you are! First, let's check your pronounciation. Tell me the spell name." Draco go right down to business. On the other table, Hermione sat down and began practicing it herself on heavier items. 

"Wingardium Leviosa."

"Try and stretch out the 'gar" a bit longer. Now use your wand while you do it. Levitate the feather."

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The boy tried to cast the spell.

"Now I see your problem; your swish and flick. It's too tense. The movement itself is meant to be loose, the two parts of it are meant to flow into each other. Like this. Wingardium Leviosa!" This time Draco managed to lift only the feather. It may have jerked up quite suddenly, but at least he'd managed to contain his magic more. He smiled at his own control. "Now you try it."

Harry cleared his throat and focused on the feather, his eyes darting to Draco nervously. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather moved slightly, but stayed still on the desk. Harry frowned deeply.

"Ah, now I know the real reason!" Draco said. "You're focusing too much the act of doing it, rather than actually doing it. Stop thinking about needing to do it desperately, and just think about lifting the feather. Your motivation is only to lift the feather. Try again." Harry nodded.

"Wingardium Leviosa." The feather shifted, and then began to float upwards. It reached a foot off the table before Harry dropped it. "I did it! How did you know?" He asked Draco excitedly, his face going close to Draco's.

"U-uh, w-w-well, um, a wizard's mental state is a big part of magic, like Occlumency. Motivation is important, and uh, yours was messed up." Draco explained.  
"Thanks!" Harry hugged him. Draco was thrown off. He was hugged before, sure, by Hermione as well, but Harry's hug was the hug of someone who didn't really know how. As if he'd watched people hug and tried copying it for the first time. It was quite awkward, but only lasted 7 seconds before Draco was released from the other boy's grip. 

"C-can I ask you something?" Draco said hesitantly.

"Sure."

"Why didn't you stick up for me against Weasley on the train?" Harry's face blanched. "I-I mean, n-not that you n-needed t-to, it's f-f-fine, but I was j-just wondering, um-"

"I'm sorry." Harry interrupted him. "I'm sorry I didn't stick up for you. I do know how hard it is when someone calls your parents terrible, or drunks. It just," he sighed, "Ron was so nice to me. And he talked to me for ages about who I was, and just wanted to be my friend, and when he insulted your parents, I didn't want to be on the other side of that again. And he seemed so nice, it came out of nowhere, and I didn't know how to react. And that stuff about supporting Voldemort got to my head and- I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not standing up for you sooner." He apologised to the surprised blonde. 

"Well I'm sorry too." Draco began. "I'm sorry for just treating you like a source of knowledge when we first met. That was rude. You were just the first person who'd lived in the muggle world I'd ever met, and I got excited. I should of tried to get to know you." He stuck out his hand. "Friends?"

Harry took it. "Friends." The shook on it.

"Awww," a coo interrupted them. "So sweet. I'm glad you two have made up. At least now there's another person who knows about the 'muggle' world in our group. Neville doesn't even know what a microwave is!" Hermione said.

"What's a microwave?"

"Oh not you too Draco!" She said. Harry chuckled. 

"Is it like a very small wave? A thing used as a greeting? Is it something to do with oceans? Are muggles able to control the tides by themselves now?" Draco asked, trying to make sense of the word.

"It's a small box that you use to reheat food. It uses electricity." Hermione explained.

"Oh yes, eel-ek-trik-sity. Muggles are so odd."

"Microwaves aside, we should probably go to Transfiguration." Hermione said, packing away the book she was practising with. 

"Never thought I'd hear that sentence." Said Harry.

The put their feathers away and walked over to the Transfiguration classroom as a group. 

This lesson was less eventful than the previous ones. After everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall gave them all a strict talking to, one with significantly less flair than Snape, but with no less fear and respect from the students. After her short but sweet introduction, she turned her desk into a pig. Unfortunately, none of the students would be doing any furniture-into-animal transitions anytime soon. They had to make numerous complex notes on the topic, most of which Draco could already cite off by heart, and were given a match to turn into a needle. 

Those who were taught by Draco in either breaks had significantly more progress than the others, having a clearer mental state and motivation. Most of the group had managed to make a change in their matchstick, from turning it silver, to completing the transition. Terry's had turned silver and smooth, one of the best in the class, beaten only by Hermione, who's matchstick had turned silver and pointy, and Draco, who had only bested Hermione by giving his needle an eye. They were all treated to the rare smile from McGonagall. Which was ruined by Seamus Finnigan, who's matchstick had caught alight and was spreading to the wooden desks. 

After more peaceful Transfiguration lesson, there was a couple of hours before dinner. All of the study group (except Harry who said that he'd have to go with Ron, much to Draco's chagrin) slipped their matchstick-needles into their pockets to practice with in the library. All against Hermione's better judgement and fear that they'd get in trouble for stealing. Draco rebutted that they'd already stolen the feathers, and what was a couple of little matchstick?

After an hour of practice and a simplified explanation of the theory between wood and metal from Draco, nearly everyone had managed to turn their matchstick into what could properly resemble a needle. This was far more difficult than charms, and had everyone tired with the effort. The only one to not manage it was Michael, who'd accidentally melted his matchstick in a move that Draco didn't even want to dwell on. This magic relied far more on control and concentration for only one thing, something that Michael lacked in buckets. 

After tiring themselves out, they eased into chatting among themselves, trying to learn more about one another. Draco learnt that Michael was from a very conservative Halfblood family, and was constantly in the shadow of his younger brothers. Michael didn't seem to mind, because as a young boy the pressure had apparently been suffocating. Even though his family lived in Scotland, his parents were planning to send his younger brother's off to Durmstrang, leaving Michael at Hogwarts by himself. He seemed happy as he explained this, saying that his brothers were "nothing more than pompous twits that think the world revolves around them."

Although Draco already knew quite a bit about Terry's family, he didn't know that his family had the bad luck of having three squib children. His older brother Nelson, his younger sister Mauve (though there was still time) and his cousin, one of the triplets, Barry. Apparently this didn't cause a lot tension and only opened the Pureblood family up to the muggle world a lot more. His brother Nelson worked at a popular muggle law firm in London.

Anthony didn't have any siblings, and only lived with his father. His father was an Auror, and was a bit of a workaholic, but always made time for his son. His mother had left them when he was younger, so he never really knew her. "Good riddance!" Michael had said to this. Apparently Michael and Anthony had gone to the same wizarding primary school in Scotland and had known each other since they were 7. 

At 5 o'clock Michael had said his goodbyes and said that he needed to get to the Great Hall so that he could take the Victoria sponge cake to the poor injured Hufflepuff. The Ravenclaw boys all waved them off.

"What happened to the Hufflepuff girl?" Neville asked them, a bit more sad after his Herbology buddy had gone. After Anthony explained the situation angrily, Neville turned white. "Professor Snape really took points away from her while she was in pain?"

"Yes." Terry nodded sadly.

"I don't know if I want to go to Potions anymore."

"Me neither. So this is why I've been concocting a revenge. You see, we have Potions tomorrow, so-" Anthony began laying out his revenge scheme wickedly. Hermione stepped in.

"You can't do that to a teacher! And if he's as bad as you're saying he is, he'd have you expelled!" 

"Oh lighten up, that's the best part of the plan. We don't get caught."

"Do you approve of this Draco?" Hermione suddenly dragged the nervous blonde into him.

"Well Snape is kind of a jerk..." Hermione shot him her look. "But! But we shouldn't do anything rash until we've had more lessons with him. We can't properly judge a character based on two hours with them, it isn't a fair test. Maybe he just had a bad day?" Draco shrugged. 

"Ugh, fiiiiiiine fine fine, I won't prank him. Let's go to dinner." Anthony gave in disappointedly. 

"Let's go."

==============

After dinner and a slice of Victoria sponge that was subpar at best, the Ravenclaw boys decided to head up to the dormitories. 

"What can you break, even if you never pick it up or touch it?" The eagle knocker asked. 

"My heart!" Michael sank onto his knees dramatically in front of the door, clutching his chest.

"Not a strong enough answer. Wait for someone else to try." 

Draco knew the answer. It was 'a promise'. But he didn't want to interrupt the fun just yet.

"A vase if you used a shattering charm?" Terry asked. The eagle grumbled a bit before opening up the door. "Thank you Bernie."

"I don't know about you three, but I'm beat," Michael yawned. "I think I'm going up and going to sleep." 

"But it's only 8 o'clock." Terry pointed to the blue clock hanging under one of the lanterns. 

"I'm pretty tired too, actually, so I think I'll be doing a Michael by going to sleep absurdly early." Anthony stretched his arms. 

"I'll go with you then." Terry said. "Draco?"

"I'd like to check out the Ravenclaw library first, but I'll see you guys up there." They waved to each other as the three other three went up the stairs, and Draco went through the door that was in the middle of the niche of books. 

On the other side was a library that could practically rival the school's. The room obviously had a lot of extension charms on it and extended forward. You'd go down a small set of stairs that led up to the door and would come face to face with a sign and a basket. 

The sign read 'Please keep quiet while in the Ravenclaw library. If you are not Ravenclaw, please leave while you still can'. Underneath the vaguely threatening sign lay a basket with some books inside it. The basket was labelled 'For books that are no longer wanted.' Draco assumed this was the reason the library was so big. Because it could keep filling up.

Draco walked down the stairs and past the sign. Each shelf of books was labelled on the side of it, from Transfiguration to Dark Magic, it seemed to have everything. Draco continued scouring the shelves for what he wanted.

He enjoed Ravenclaw. He truly did. But he was in too deep for his father not to react. Especially since his only other friends outside of Ravenclaw were Gryffindors. He like his house, but his father would not. He heard the whispers that followed him around the hall. He needed to be resorted. 

He scouted and hunted for a book that could have anything to do with the topic. He picked out Hogwarts Houses And Their Meaning, Maybe I'm In The Wrong House and The Sorting Ceremony's Sanctity as good places to start. He sat down on the carpeted floor and leant against a dusty bookshelf in an empty corner of the library. He began with reading Maybe I'm In The Wrong house.

As he got to the 20th page of the book he realised that he probably won't find anything to help his problem. It was an amateur book written by a group of students that only contained a lot of waffle about accepting yourself who you are and steroetypes and yadda yadda yadda. It was the furthest thing from helpful he could have found. 

He chose Hogwarts Houses And Their Meaning to read next. It was rather compelling, and he got bit distracted from what he was looking for as he read over the Founders' lives, trials and tribulations, and how they chose their animals. After he'd gotten to the 79th page he realised there wasn't a whole lot on if the sorting hat were to make a mistake, and was more focused on the house trait origins instead of how someone is sorted. Another unfortunate dud. At this point it was getting rather late in the night but Draco powered on.

He opened up The Sorting Ceremony's Sanctity to the first page and began reading. It had a lot of repetition from the last book, on the origins and house traits and whatnot, but soon began to get onto the topic Draco needed. By the 44th page Draco had found what he was looking for, the sacred chapter on possible sorting hat mistakes. His eyelids were heavy but he still turned the page. He needed to get into Slytherin. Just one more page. Just one more...

==============

"Hey, wake up kid," Draco felt a shaking on his shoulder. Draco batted it away with tired limbs. "Wake up." He opened his eyes a slit to see Meredith looking at him.

"Gah!" He shrieked and bumped his head against the shelf. "Ow..."

"Come on, it's 2 in the morning, time to go up to bed." She held out a hand for him to take and pulled him onto his feet. In her free hand she held a candle which glow Draco was thankful for, as other than that the library stayed dark and unfamiliar. He grabbed onto The Sorting Ceremony's Sanctity and held it close to his chest. Meredith watched him but didn't comment. 

"It's taken a while to find you. For some reason I was the only one who noticed the library's counter still said that there was a person inside." She mentioned as they walked.

"I-I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, I hardly sleep anyway. I just want you to get some rest in an actual bed before you mess up your back. The library isn't the most comfortable place to sleep, you should save yourself from when you really have to, like during O.W.L and N.E.W.T revision." They were next to the boy's dormitory steps. "Now try and make it all the way up to the top, don't fall asleep on the staircase, because I know for sure that some of those idiots won't check twice before they step on you." Draco grimaced and she chuckled. "Next time take the books up to your dormitory, okay? Get some sleep." She patted him on the head and shuffled him off.

He barely made it to his bed before he collapsed down on it. The mattress groaned but he didn't care. He was still in his robes, still holding onto the book as he slept. 

It was his ticket to Slytherin.

It was his ticket to his father's love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Boy was this a longer one! Ha, that's what she said. Anyway, this chapter did include some Snape hate. So you're going to have to deal with that. Also, sorry if any Americans are confused with the way I spell some things, it's because I'm British. AO3 doesn't see it that way unfortunately.  
> If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


	8. Lucius' Incredible Parenting Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets a Howler from Lucius. 3rd September 1991.

Draco woke up with drool on his face, a large book under his stomach, and his school robes covered in library dust. 

"Wakey wakey!" Michael's face popped out from the side of the bunkbed.

"Ah! Salazar's sparkling bikini! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Draco yells at him, wiping the drool off his face. 

"Hahahah! You've got to teach me some of those really wizard swears someday, seriously. The worst I've ever heard being said was 'Merlin'." Draco scowled at him jokingly. 

"C'mon guys, breakfast is in 15 minutes, the post will be here soon." Anthony told them, packing his things into his schoolbag. Draco jumped out of his bed and rushed to the mirror. He supposed he could keep what he had on, he didn't think it smelled too bad yet. His hair however...

"That's the best bed hair I've ever seen!" Michael pointed at him while laughing. Draco pouted and tried to smooth it down. There were locks of hair sticking up in ways Draco didn't know was possible. He put a hand through it and tried mussing it up. It looked better at least. It wasn't neat, but it wasn't terrible. It looked a bit too fluffy, so he went over to the en suite and took out his jar of hair gel. He got out a bit and flattened his blonde hair down. It wasn't completely stuck to his scalp, but it was managable. He exited the bathroom to put on his shoes. 

After he was ready, him and the other boys headed down to the Great Hall. 

They took their seats at the Ravenclaw table, all waiting for the post. Draco was nervous, but thought that if nothing had come yesterday, then his father probably wouldn't know about his housing situation until he fixed it. Once he had some free time away from the others, he would read the chapter he'd found in The Sorting Ceremony's Sanctity. He didn't want the others to know he wanted to switch houses yet. He didn't want to offend them. But he knew that he had to. 

After ten minutes of idle discussion, owls began to fill the roof of the great hall. Hundreds of them swooping down to deliver to students, some simply dropping letters off before flying right back out, others stopping by the students to steal food and get petted. 

Terry and Anthony both had owls go to them. Anthony received a letter from an owl that flew off as soon as it was delivered, while Terry got a small sack full of letters and a clingy owl that immediately stole a sausage off his plate.

At the group's questioning look, he explained. "My siblings and cousins prefer to write a letter each." Terry looked into the sack. Oh sweet! Sugar Quills, my favourite!" In that bag alone, Terry probably had double the amount of letters Draco would get from his father in his lifetime. At the thought of his father and letters, Draco quickly checked the air for any owls that looked like Pluto.

From the very back of the hall flew in an Eurasian eagle-owl. The sheer presence make Draco gulp. Suppose his father did find out. He foolishly tried to convince himself that it was just a letter from his mother, but in the owl's clutches was the unmistakable red of a Howler. 

Pluto dropped the red envelope infront of Draco. Draco stared at it in horror. The owl landed harshly on the boy's shoulder and gently nibbled at his ear, as if knowing the danger the boy was in. After stealing a piece of toast off of his plate, the large owl flew off. Draco was still staring horrified at the red envelope. 

"Father." 

"Oh god, a Howler. That's rough buddy." Michael said unhelpfully. 'Rough' was an understatement. "You may as well open it, it's worse if you wait." The entire Ravenclaw table seemed to have quieted down to hear the Howler. Dracpo could hear some giggled and pity from the older years. 

He reached out to the red envelope and opened the Malfoy seal. 

"You have 30 seconds to get to a less populated area before my message plays." Lucius' commanding voice played out. Even in letter form, Draco could sense his anger being held back. The enveloped palyed a counter on it in black ink. Draco clutched the letter and sprinted out of the hall, leaving his breakfast behind. 

He ran through the halls, racing in and out of students, trying to find a deserted area. He made it into a deserted and dusty Defence classroom and shut the door. He shakily rose his wand and set a weak silencing charm around the room, blocking any sound from making it out. 

The envelope timer had reached 01 seconds. 

"Well then, now that I hope you've made it to a more private area, let's talk Draco," Lucius' controlled voice echoed around the room. "I got the oddest letter from that disgusting half-breed 'Professor' Flitwick. Do you know what it said Draco?" Draco clenched his fists and kept his head down. The letter floated above him, talking down to him. "It said that you displayed a great show of magic. That you lifted a desk with 'Wingardium Leviosa' on the first try, instead of a feather. It said that the half-breed would like to personally tutor you in charms. To use your 'potential'. But you know what the most horrific thing that goblin told me?"  
Draco nearly answered, but remembered that it was only a letter. His fists clenched tighter.

"That goblin told me that it was PROUD to have you in their HOUSE. In RAVENCLAW." Draco could hear the sneer in his father's voice. "Of course, at first I thought that he'd made an idiotic mistake. What with all the other nonsense it was spouting about your potential. You know as well as I do that your magic has always been pathetically weak for a Malfoy, especially with your lack of control. He acted like you charming a desk instead of a feather was something to be proud of! Are you so ruined that you can't even discern a table from a feather? Are you so ignorant that you'd embarrass your family in front of a class of potential allies?" Draco opened his mouth to reply again, but was cut off. "It's obviously rhetorical Draco, this is a letter." Draco shut his mouth and flushed with shame at the loathing in his father's voice. 

"So I asked Professor Snape about your progress in Slytherin, and do you know what he said?" Draco clenched his fists tighter. "He said that you weren't in his house. That you were in RAVENCLAW." His father's voice boomed. This entire time the Howler hadn't howled as much as it talked to him. Dracos suspected this was going to stop very soon. "DO YOU HAVE ANY KNOWLEDGE TO WHAT THIS MEANS FOR US DRACO?! IT MEANS A LINEAGE THAT HAS LASTED HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF YEARS, SINCE HOGWARTS FIRST BEGAN, IS BROKEN! BECAUSE OF YOUR REPULSIVE LOVE OF BOOKS. I ALWAYS KNEW I SHOULD HAVE STOPPED YOUR BLATHERING ABOUT BOOKS WHEN IT BEGAN! I WAS TOO LENIENT WITH YOU! I SHOULD HAVE BEAT IT OUT OF YOU WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!" The calm was gone. The control was gone. Everything was gone. Draco could practically feel the books slamming onto his head. "BUT NOW YOU'VE DISHONOURED YOUR FAMILY, HAVE DISSAPOINTED YOUR ANCESTORS AND HAVE DISOBEYED ME! YOU HAVE EVEN DISHONOURED SALAZAR SLYTHERIN HIMSELF! THE MAFLOY FAMILY HAS ALWAYS BEEN IN SLYTHERIN, THEY HAVE BEEN CUNNING, THEY HAVE BEEN AMBITIOUS, THEY HAVE BEEN SHREWD, ACHIEVMENT ORIENTED AND ESPECIALLY STRONG LEADERS! AND NOW I KNOW THAT YOU ARE NONE OF THOSE THINGS!" Draco's eyes welled up. He was nothing, he'd done everything wrong, he was a failure, he was a Ravenclaw, he wasn't a Malfoy, he was nothing-

"Draco." The letter said in quieter tone, snapping Draco back to attention with the whiplash. "I want you to know how lucky you are. If we had another child, if we had another heir, you would be disowned. If Narcissa wasn't in her state right now, we would have another child, and you'd be living in muggle London on the side of the road with nothing. So count your luck. Trust a boy like you to gain something from your mother's pain." Draco flinched harshly at the repulsion in his voice. "You are just like the traitors from the Black family. I suppose it's good that you're a Ravenclaw instead of a Hufflepuff or a...ugh, Gryffindor. It's shame you took after those in the Black family instead of your Aunt Bella." Draco shivered at the nickname Aunt Bella. His 'Aunt Bella' had been the Dark Lord's right hand, and had gotten pleasure from torturing people. 

"You shall keep up with your studies, be the best flyer in your year, the top of your class. You shall continue studying your languages and dark magic. There is still time to save you and put you onto a better path than this. Make powerful allies, stay away from Mudbloods, and write to your mother regularly. She has been...unmanageable since you left." His voice softened when he mentioned his wife. "Take the tutoring lessons in charms. Even if it is done by a half-breed, you do need to improve drastically. Oh, and Draco?" Draco rubbed at his teary eyes with the back of his hand. "The only reason you'll be allowed back to the manor come the holidays is for your mother's sake. If she does need you however, you will stay at Hogwarts and receive no gifts. Don't disappoint me again, or there will be consequences. One step out of line and you are off to Mahoutokoro School of Magic until Seventh year." Draco flinched again. He made a mental note to pick up a bit of Japanese. Just in case.

"Remember Draco, you are a Malfoy. Act like it." The letter burst into flames and dropped to the floor in a pile of dust.

Draco was shaking. His hands were shaking. He clenched and unclenched his fists but it didn't help. He was still shaking. 

He felt lightheaded and heavy at the same time. Every word had hit it. His brain felt like a hailstorm, words like pebbles of rain racing around his mind, battering against the walls of his head. He faintly heard someone knocking at the door of the classroom but he didn't care. He couldn't breath. 

The tears he'd rubbed away were streaming down his cheeks silently. His breath was beginning to grow laboured. He was nothing to his father. He'd disappointed everyone. His father thought he deserved to be beaten. He did. Why did he have to like books? It should have been beaten out of him when he was younger. He was ruined forever. 

He fell onto his knees. In the middle of the room. He felt small, like a speck of dust, ready to be blown away. He heard the door open up through the ringing in his ears, but all he could do was let out a sob. The tears kept welling up and falling, weighing heavier on his cheeks. He curled into a ball and wept, gripping tight, digging his nails into his legs. He bent his head into his knees and sobbed, the floodgates opening. 

He was WORTHLESS. He was NOTHING. He was STUPID and IGNORANT and DISAPPOINTING and DISRESPECTFUL and REPULSIVE. He was lucky to be born a Malfoy, but none of that matters now. He was a RAVENCLAW. It hadn't quite sunk in yet, but with his face tucked into his knees and a ringing in his ears, he felt hopeless. Even if he could swap houses, the damage was done. His father still wouldn't love him. He just wanted to make him proud. 

And now he never would.

A great sob wretched itself from his throat. Sets of footsteps pattered around him and he felt arms reach round his back and hug him. He tensed up. Was he going to be strangled? Choked? He ripped himself out of the grip and spun round on the floor to face them. 

He saw Terry and Anthony and Michael. He saw Hermione and Neville. He saw Harry. He saw pity. 

The gathered around him again. 

"Hey, hey Draco, it's okay, you're okay, everything's fine." Someone's voice told him. He felt ill. There were too many people. He couldn't breath.

"Can't...c-can't...can't breath...can't breath." He stuttered out through tears, beginning to panic as his throat closed up on him. 

"Give him some space!" The same voice yelled out and everyone moved back a meter. He clenched his nails into his legs tighter, digging into the trousers to the skin. 

A set of hands gripped his, and pulled them from his legs. If you looked closely you could make out little holes dug into the fabric of his trousers. One of his legs was probably bleeding. The set of hands were soft as they cupped his and stroked them. His tears kept falling and his face crumpled again. It was such a strange gesture, but it was comforting. It was soft. He let out another sob. He could live forever as long as he had this. He wasn't used to it, but he wished he was. 

"Okay guys, let's just go to class early. If they're late just tell your teacher Draco got a...what do you call it, howl-thing? Say he'll be late for class. Neville and I will handle Harry. Leave them be." The same voice told the group. The set of hands round his gripped on slightly tighter. 

There was a pitter pattering of feet and the sound of a door opening and closing. Draco kept his face in his knees, his hands outstretched before him. 

He twisted his hands round in the other's grip and entertwined their fingers. The other person squeezed his hands. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry's voice asked. Draco peeked over his legs and shook his head. Harry smiled awkwardly. "Okay then, that's cool. Can I ask a couple of questions, though? Just yes or no ones, so you can nod or shake your head, no speaking needed." Draco hesitantly gave a nod.

"Okay then, uh, cool. So...um...first question; was that letter from your dad?" Harry asked. Draco gave a shaky nod, his knees tucking in tighter. "Oh then, okay...why was he mad?" Draco stared at him. "Sorry! Yes and no questions only, uh...did you do something bad?" He asked awkwardly. Draco nodded somberly. "What did you- right! Yes and no question, yes and no question...did you do something bad in class?" Draco thought about the desk incident. He nodded. "Huh. What did you do? Oh damn it, sorry, I keep on forgetting about the yes and no thing, um..."

"This isn't getting us anywhere." Draco croaked out. Harry snapped his head to Draco at the unexpected sound. "I'll just tell you why he sent me a Howler." He wiped at his face and cleared his throat. Harry scooted closer. He absentmindedly unclasped their hands and laid his on his knees. "The reason he was so mad at me is because...I'm in Ravenclaw."

"Huh?" Harry asked, cocking his head. "Isn't Ravenclaw the smart house? Why would he be mad?"

"It's because every single Malfoy since the beginning of Hogwarts was in Slytherin. All of my ancestors. My lineage is based upon being a Slytherin. And being rich. The Black family on Mother's side was also completely compiled of Slytherins, my cousin Sirius. They were disowned and burned from the family portrait. He's now in Azkaban." At Harry's confused look he elaborated. "The highest security wizarding prison in Britain. People have been disowned for less. It's considered disrespectful and traitorous to differ. I'm lucky to be here." He wiped at his eyes with his arm. 

"Just because of a Hogwarts house? That's crazy!"

"Father was angry. I'm lucky I don't have a sibling or another heir, or I'd be on the street. They would have another heir but Mother is- she's...she's not well." He cut himself off. Harry scooched next to him. 

"Do you mind if I ask what's going on with your mum? I mean- obviously I don't believe what Ron said on the train, but I saw her in Diagon Alley and it just...it looked more like you were the parent." Harry looked at him imploringly, begging him to answer. 

Draco sighed.

"About...5? Years ago, when I was 7, someone broke into the Manor. They managed to force their way through the wards and into the house. The Aurors only said that they were a woman they were about to send to Azkaban, and that they were keeping in a holding cell. I was too young for them to tell me what crimes she'd committed, so all I knew was that she was a 'very bad woman'" He used quotation marks, rolling his eyes. "Once she was in the house, she'd made it into one of the master bedrooms, where Mother was sleeping. I heard a scream. I raced to where I had heard it and saw this crazy woman standing over my mum with a wand out-" his voice broke, "and I panicked. I performed my strongest bout of accidental magic. Apparently I'd managed to wandlessly perform a Bodybind hex on the woman, and had broken three of her bones." He smiled sadly. "But it was too late. She'd cursed Mother. By the time the Aurors came she was let out of a Bodybind hex. She Avada Kedavra-ed herself right then and there. The Aurors took my family in for questioning, but Mother was acting odd. She was screaming every time she saw someone new, she was talking to herself, she was extremely attached to me, had a poor memory, and was, inherently, acting like a child. They took her to St Mungos Psyche ward for 3 months, but it didn't really help. They just smoothed her out." He frowned. 

"That's awful." 

Draco nodded. "Father was angrier than ever and the Manor was quieter than ever. I just focused on my books. And look how much luck that did me." He added bitterly.

"I'm so sorry."

"And you want to know the worst part?!" Draco jumped to his feet, shocking Harry. He nodded dumbly. "The worst part is the mystery! Most people think a mystery makes something interesting, or that it adds more layers to a story, and you think with a story like that you wouldn't want to know, but you would! And you do! I want to know who that woman was, what she did to end up nearly going to Azkaban, why she did what she did! And I'll never get to know unless the Aurors are suddenly allowed to share their top secret case files with children! But I think I deserve to know!" He exclaimed indignantly, gesturing wildly with his arms. "But no, I have to just call her 'the woman'. And I have to deal with the fact that she'll never be held accountable! Because she killed herself in front of me before I could ever know. And now I'll never. Never know. I've looked up everything in the library! The closest thing I can think of is Schizotypal Personality Disorder, but it doesn't quite check out, and there's no curse for it." He stopped his rage to think. "Now I'm realising how insensitive I'm being to you, as if you don't know how it feels, but both of your parents kind of died...sorry..." He finished awkwardly, rubbing his arm.

"Don't compare your pain. I mean, my parents did die, but at least the person who did it got defeated...by me? I guess? And at least I know why he did it. Light vs Dark. I agree that not knowing would be terrible."

"It is!"

They looked at each other. Then they started laughing. 

"We are pretty messed up."

"Yeah, we are." 

"The Messed Up Group."

"Terrible band name."

A comfortable silence. Harry stood up with Draco and grabbed two bags.

"Here's your bag," He handed him one. Draco smiled.

"Thanks."

More silence.

"Well I should probably get to class. I have Potions with Snape first thing." Draco fake gagged. 

"I think I have that later!"

"Unlucky you."

"Yeah, we'd better get to class...I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, definitely. In the library."

. . .

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, um, I saw my cousin Dudley doing it, I think it's called a high five."

"What do I do?"

"I think you just...slap it?"

"Huh."

Draco reached over with an open palm and softly pat Harry's hand.

"Like that?"

"Sure!"

They exited the room together and took separate paths. They waved goodbye to each other.

Things weren't okay. Things were far from okay. Things were never okay, and Draco wondered when he'd get used to that. 

But things were a bit better. They were fine. 

The school day was okay. The friends were okay. Studying in the library was fun. But it still felt a bit bleak, covered in a layer of grey from Lucius' letter. 

But then Draco looked at Harry and saw him mouth 'The Messed Up Group' and things seemed a little less grey. 

They were manageable.

And that was okay.

That was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! A bit shorter but I needed to post soon. Sorry if any Americans are confused with the way I spell some things, it's because I'm British. AO3 doesn't see it that way unfortunately.  
> This chapter focused on Lucius being shitty and why Narcissa is the way she is.  
> If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out, it's an Eighth year fic, and as of know it's on a hiatus (sorry) until I can sort myself out. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! If you don't know about my other fanfic, It's Easier Than Hating, then please check that out it's an Eighth year fic, and if you do know I apologise if chapter updates are a little slower because of me working on this. Your support means the world to me so I hope you have a great day and a great life! Catch you later, BisexualGurrl! xoxo


End file.
